Harmony: An average, everyday Supergoddess?
by DreamSmith AJK
Summary: Harmony has always been used by Cordelia, ignored by her teachers, and laughed at by Everyone. So what happens when, on that very weird Halloween, she dresses as an Asgardian GODDESS? No one will be using, ignoring, or laughing at her anymore.
1. The origin story

Title: Harmony: An average, everyday... Supergoddess?  
Author: DreamSmith (AJK)  
Rating: PG-13, for some sexual content, violence and some language

Disclaimer: All Buffy characters belong to 20th Century Fox, various other corporations, and Joss Whedon.  
Marvel is the private playground of Stan (the man) Lee, and yet more corporations.  
Kelsey I'm not sure about, you'll have to ask Joe about that one.

Speaking of which....

Author's Note: Okay, here it is, the obligatory 'Halloween Costume Fic'. This one, though, is Joe's fault. Specifically his story 'Purrfection', which provided the kernel from which (with his gracious permission) this story sprang. My story doesn't quite share the same universe as his (though it's awfully close). Call it the universe next door.  
After reading his early chapters and seeing that poor Harmony wasn't represented, I decided I had to give the kid a break.  
And things sort of went crazy from there.

Author's Note II: If you're curious about the character Harmony dresses as, there's an (exhaustive) profile of her here: .com/wiki/Amora_%28Earth-616%29

Dedication: To Diana, for many years and many thousands of pages Beta'd; thank you. To Joe for the seed from which this sprang, and to the many readers on TtH who have given awesome feedback and encouragement--you guys are the reason there's anything here past chapter one, and you rock.

**'The Origin Story'**

"You're going as _who_?"

Cordelia's voice could cut just like a... sharply cutting thing that cut you, sort of like a knife, only sharper, and Harmony cringed a little as the girl's words drew blood. Well, not _real_ blood, obviously, but the fictional blood that the cutty thing would have drawn if it were actually there--it was one of those things Ms. Larkin talked about in English Lit; a meta... metamorph... metaphysical! Yeah, that was it! The blonde would have smiled in triumph at having remembered all that from a class she usually slept through, but Cordy's glare told her that it would be a bad idea to do so.

"I told you already," she said to the girl instead, trying her best to sound all reasonable and calm and stuff. "She's a cool superchick, with neat powers and everything, like we all said we were going to do." Looking around the Sunnydale high cafeteria to make sure no one was watching too closely, Harmony pulled a small stack of comics out of her book bag. "I even did research, see?" She put them on the table in front of her, beside her lunch tray, and opened the top one to show the other cheerleader. "Here she is, right here."

With a longsuffering sigh, Cordelia leaned over to look, along with Cassie and Anna. Aphrodesia was ignoring the proceedings, busy instead eye-flirting with one of the football players sitting at the next table (Proximity to the cheerleader's table was a measure of how cool any social subgroup was--jocks got to sit close, geeks, nerds and outcasts were all at the far end of the cafeteria).

"God, Harmony; did you bump your head getting off of the short bus today?" Cordelia's sneer was precisely calibrated to inflict maximum pain as she looked up from the comic book. "I mean, your dimness factor is well known to me, but that's why I took time out of my busy schedule to explain to everyone--especially you--what the plan was for our Halloween costumes this year." The others were snickering as they looked at each other, enjoying her humiliation as they always did. Of the assembled Cordettes, only Kelsey, sitting at the table across from her, was looking at Harmony with any visible sympathy... or maybe she was just imagining that. It was hard to tell, sometimes, just _what_ Kelsey was thinking. She was easily pretty enough, and popular enough, to be included in their clique, but there was definitely some oddness there. The girl went beyond 'quirky', edging quite a ways into 'weird'... and that wasn't even _counting_ the thing where she liked to go out with other girls instead of guys....

Harmony pulled her eyes away from Kelsey; she got distracted very easily, something that had been a problem since she was a little girl. The comment about the short bus stung quite a bit, actually, since she really had almost been forced to take special classes once, until her parents threatened the school board with a lawsuit.

"Um, well...." Cordelia was still looking at her, one perfectly-plucked eyebrow raised expectantly. Harmony smiled brightly as part of her automatic 'please, _please_ like me' reflex, and started again. "I know you explained it, and I even went to the comic book store to do research and everything!" She pointed to the comic the dark-haired girl was still holding. Cordy was monumentally unimpressed.

"I guess it was too much to hope you'd manage without somebody holding your hand," she told the blonde, with just the right level of sneer curling her lip. "God knows, I've been your lab partner often enough to know just how deficient you are!"

Cassie giggled.

"Even a comic book has too many big words for you, huh, Harm?" Anna nodded sagely from her spot on the other side of Cordelia.

"That's right; she looked at the pretty pictures, saw it was another air-headed blonde, and that was enough for her." She pointedly flipped her own dark-red hair back over her shoulder. "Never mind that the whole thing was supposed to be us going as super-_heroes_."

"As completely babelicious superheroes," Cordelia corrected, nodding. "Although that obviously goes without saying for us...." She paused, made a show of looking Harmony over with a disapproving air, then added "Well, most of us."

Another stab of hurt went through her.

"Hey!" It came out as a sort of submissive whine, which she hated, though by now the habit was so deeply ingrained that she couldn't help it.

Kelsey cleared her throat quietly, even as she used her fork to play with the remains of her lunch on the tray in front of her.

"Actually, the one she picked is probably in the top five, if you're talking about hot chicks in the Marvel universe. Whatever else you've got to say about it, Harm's definitely got taste."

Kelsey, unique among the Cordettes, was actually a comic-book geek, and wasn't ashamed of it, either. Cordelia, looking displeased with her judgment being questioned, scowled at the girl.

"Yeah, she's hot. Pretty much every female in comicbookland is hot. What do you expect? They're drawn by _men_." She brandished the book at Harmony again. "What she _isn't_--and this is sort of key--is a super_hero_. If five of us dress up as heroes and one of us goes as a villain, it ruins the whole concept!"

Harmony could feel her lower lip starting to quiver, no matter how hard she tried to stop it. Cordelia had been her best friend pretty much forever, which of course meant that deep down inside she didn't really _mean_ all the things she said, but still....

"The geek behind the counter at the comics place didn't tell me she was a villain," she tried, her voice plaintive as she tried to appease her friend. "And I worked really hard on my costume; it's going to look sooo hot!" Harmony tried to project as much cheerfulness as she could; the extra-wide smile helped hide her trembling lip, too.

"That's some costume, if it makes _you_ look hot," came the usual snide comment from Cassie.

"She started with a full face-mask," Anna told her. "That's a necessary first step on the road to Harmony hotness."

Kelsey's thoughtful "But the character isn't exactly a villain; at least not all the time," was effectively drowned out by the girls' laughter, and Cordelia finally called an end to the lunchtime meeting of the Cordettes by standing up.

"I suppose it's too late to fix this; I know I don't have any free time or energy to redo everything for you." She tossed the comic down in front of Harmony. "If we end up losing that costume contest because of you, I am going to be _extremely_ pissed. Just so you know."

With that, she swept away, followed by the others. Kelsey gave Harmony what might have been a look of sympathy as she left... and then she was left sitting there alone. With a confused sigh she gathered up her things, stuffed the comics down into her book bag so that no one who mattered would see them, and headed off to class.

Her costume really did look pretty good, and she'd been so proud of how she'd picked out her own character and everything. Somehow, though, what should have been simple had ended up going wrong, just like always. It hurt some, but at least she was used to it by now.

* * *

"Are you _serious?!_"

Harmony stood frozen in the hallway outside of the Biology classroom, screened by a group of chattering freshmen from the cluster of jocks only twenty feet away. She'd been heading towards them at a quick walk just moments before, because she'd spotted her current boyfriend, Brian, among them. Now, though, she felt like her entire body had turned to ice... just like that weird 'weather anomaly' that had frozen Irene Jacobs mid-step back in junior high. (That had been seriously weird, though the Mayor's office had assured everyone that it was a perfectly normal, if very rare weather thing... some kind of 'arctic super-downdraft.)

She shook her head, violently enough to make her long blonde hair fly. Focus, she needed to focus on what they were saying. Maybe she hadn't heard it right. She was ditzy and stupid after all, like Cordelia was always telling her, so maybe Brian hadn't _really_ said what she thought he'd--

"Swear to god, man; it happened." Brian was grinning at his fellow football players, that much she could see clearly, even through the intervening crowd of insignificant freshmen. "We were parked out on Miller's Road, and we were getting it on, only she stops all of a sudden and wants me to put on a condom." The other jocks nodded in sympathetic understanding.

"I hate it when they get all prissy like that," Eric Mercer told him. "Is that when you told her about the coke?" Brian smiled, his eyes gleaming craftily.

"You bet, man. I gave her a story about not having any condoms, but I _did_ happen to have a bottle of coke... and _everybody_ knows about how a little coke kills all the little swimmers, right?" They all laughed, and Brian continued with the story. "And she believed it, sure enough. I'll tell you, though, I nearly died when we got finished, and I handed it to her, and she started to _drink_ it!" They laughed harder, and Eric had to wipe tears of mirth from his eyes.

"What did she do when you told her she had to, you know, shake it up and fire it right up in there?"

Brian had to hold up his hand and take a moment to compose himself before he could speak with something approaching a straight face.

"She asked me--and I swear this is true--she asked me if it was _sugar free_, 'cause she's on a diet and counting calories!"

That was enough to make every one of them basically collapse laughing, and even some of the passersby were grinning. Harmony's face felt like it was on fire, and tears of humiliation were streaming down her cheeks.

Yes, it had happened just like that, and yes, she'd believed him... what reason did she have _not_ to believe him? They'd been dating more than three months now, and she'd thought he really liked her, maybe even... but no, he hadn't.

"Okay, bro, that is so cold." Another jock, Terry, was trying to be serious and mostly failing. "I mean, the girl is okay to look at, but you couldn't find someone dumber if you tried." His lips twitched a little. "And there you go, giving her non-diet cola, so now she's going to be fat _and_ stupid!"

"Fat_ter_, you mean," Eric chimed in over the laugher. "Seriously, dude, that is the chunkiest cheerleader we've got. How come you've stayed with her this long?"

"Physical conditioning," her hunky boyfriend told his friends with a cruel smile. "I put her on top when we're getting busy, and that is one serious workout!"

She couldn't stand to hear any more. Hugging herself tight, Harmony walked quickly away. She was going to miss her last class of the day, though of course it didn't matter. It wasn't like she'd understood any of her math classes once they got past long division, anyway.

There was still some last minute work that needed to be done on her costume. She'd thought the idea of dressing up was a waste of time when Cordelia had first brought it up. Right now.... The idea of becoming someone else, even for just one night, was actually sounding like a very good thing.

* * *

It was all about the green, for this particular comic-book girl, so that's what Harmony had done for the costume. Green opera gloves, to start, which had been easy enough to find in the little retro clothing boutique downtown. She'd cut the hand part off at the wrists, though, since it turned out to be incredibly annoying, trying to do anything with her fingers encased in satin. That left her with a smooth covering from wrist to upper arm, which she had made much more interesting with multiple bands of gold ribbon encircling each arm, with little gold buckles fastening each band.

More green for her legs, of course, starting with some amazing platform heels she'd found. The one-inch platform was modest enough; it was the five-inch heels that were giving her a little trouble as she walked back and forth in her bedroom, surveying the effect in the mirror. Those shoes were actually the most expensive things she'd bought for the costume, though of course she could wear them for other things besides a silly Halloween party... assuming she didn't trip and break her neck first, trying to get down the stairs to the front door of her house. Anyway, the shoes were great. And green, which had _not_ been easy to find. Shiny, metallic emerald leggings hugged her from ankle to mid-thigh, very nearly the exact color as her shoes, giving the impression that she was wearing skin-tight, thigh-high boots (with open toes, though, which was _much_ cuter).

She hadn't been able to find anything close to the weird green metal... tiara? Crown? Whatever, she hadn't been able to find one, and even though her character actually _did_ change outfits sometimes (unlike most of the comic book people), that darn spiky green tiara thing was almost always there. Harmony had compromised by making one from scratch, using some green satin, shaped around plastic pieces cut from empty two-liter bottles. She'd done all the sewing herself, thanking her boring aunt Maribel all the while for having taught her the basics when she was a little girl. The gloves, too, she'd modified herself, sewing the gold ribbons into place so they wouldn't loosen and shift around.

The core of the whole costume, though, she'd been able to find ready-made. The amazing new costume shop that had appeared last week, 'Ethan's', had really saved her life. She posed in front of the mirror, checking out the way the corset fit. It wasn't -_exactly_- a real corset, of course; those were ugly things that women had worn underneath their clothes in the olden days, to make them look skinnier. This one was much too pretty to hide, with decorative embroidery in gold thread and such beautiful workmanship that it put anything in her Victoria's Secret catalogues to shame. It was corset-like in that it had laces along both sides, which _could_ be pulled tight (though she had no plans to do so), and it was even made of leather. Extremely thin, soft, supple leather, which was neat enough, even without factoring in the mind-boggling fact that it was green.

The tall, skinny English guy who'd sold it to her had been very nice to her, listening intently as she described what she was trying for, and when he'd pulled _this_ out from someplace in the back room, she'd thought he was some kind of magician.

He'd grinned very oddly when she told him that, and then named a price so low that she hadn't believed it.

"It's an intriguing idea, this costume of yours," he'd explained to her. "I simply _must_ see what you'll do with it."

Once again pulling herself out of the distracting daydreams, Harmony sighed, and walked back and forth one more time, practicing in the shoes and watching how she looked in the outfit. It looked pretty good. Maybe not as good as Cordelia's insanely sexy black latex catsuit (ha ha; there was a joke there, since the other girl was going as the Black Cat), but then Cordelia had hired some semi-professional art chick to make her outfit for her. And, at least Harmony wasn't going to need a wig to become _her_ character.

She shook back her golden, waist-length hair, and gave her reflection her bestest, most 'heck yeah I'm confident and sexy!' smile. It wasn't a very good one, since she was never confident, except when she was following her pack leader along with the rest of the Cordettes, and she sure wasn't feeling at all sexy after the thing with Brian, earlier. She fingered her hair uncertainly, winding the golden strands around her finger, wondering what he would think of her current look.

Yes, 'golden' strands, not just 'blonde'. She'd used a whole can of the new hair glaze product to upgrade her hair color for the night. Usually her somewhat limp hair never got past 'yellow', no matter which brand or hue of coloration she tried. Tonight, though, her locks were shimmering with an almost metallic luster.

She looked good, she did! (she tried her best to forget what she'd overheard, about being the chunkiest cheerleader at Sunnydale high... even if it was true.) Turning back and forth, she eyed her thighs and backside, which still had more than a trace of stubborn baby fat clinging to them, despite endless cheerleader practices and a solid hour on the treadmill every night. And her waist was definitely several inches thicker than, say, Cordelia's.

Harmony's eyes blurred a little as she recalled the many, many times that her mother had poked her somewhat soft tummy and mercilessly criticized her appearance.

_Mom's always telling me I need to diet more, and exercise harder,_ she thought to herself, folding her arms tight against her chest. _The only reason Dad married her is because she was super-cute when she was young. She even looks pretty good now, for an older person... which I guess is easier when you don't have to work, and can go to the spa every single day._ Harmony sighed unhappily, not exactly pleased with where that line of thought always led her. _I'm going to be the same way; I'm going to be just like her. All she has is her looks, and I'm not even as smart as she is. I'm not as pretty, either, which she manages to tell me every chance she gets._

She sighed, wishing again that she was beautiful, and thin, and talented, like Cordelia. Cordelia, who was going to be a famous actress as soon as she finished high school, while Harmony got left behind to marry somebody like Brian. Somebody who would use her, and then laugh at her when her back was turned, and probably dump her as soon as someone who was thinner and prettier came along.

"You're _almost_ attractive enough to snag a rich husband for yourself," her mother had told her recently, on a night when she'd drunk more wine than usual. "Even though you're fat, and a total air-head, you're still half-way cute. What you don't have is that something extra, that something that makes everyone take notice of you." She'd taken another drink, then, and considered her daughter with bleary eyes. "How you can manage to be fairly pretty, and at the same time so painfully ordinary and forgettable is a mystery to me."

Holding her cheerfulness before her like a shield, Harmony had smiled hopefully at her mother.

"Y-you think I'm... pretty?" The woman had only sneered at her.

"I said 'fairly pretty'. In a bland way, though; boring, ordinary." Another drink, apparently not noticing the way Harmony's shoulders had been shaking with silent sobs. "You need to be special, if you want to catch a rich man like your father." The father that at that moment had been off on yet another extended 'business trip'. Harmony had noticed that her mother tended to drink more, and act bitchier during those long absences, though she didn't know why. "A boob job," her mother had announced out of nowhere, eyeing her sixteen year old daughter speculatively. "That might be enough to rescue you, especially if we go a little overboard with it." Nodding to herself, she poured the rest of the bottle into her glass. "I'll ask Doctor Fallton about it the next time I see him, and find out when he can schedule you." One more drink, and her mother's head was lolling back on the extremely expensive, very fashionable sofa.

"It's never too soon to hook up with your first husband... and unless you find one soon you're just gonna be a bland, non-special girl... with a huge, ever-expanding ass...."

Harmony shook her head, finding herself back in the present and staring into the mirror. With difficulty she forced the tears back before they could ruin her makeup. Her reflection seemed quite a bit plainer than it had before she'd visited those memories again, her breasts smaller, her butt bigger, her waist that of an ever-so-slightly chunky girl. Self-consciously she reached for the laces on the corset, reversing her earlier decision not to tie them. Because they were on the sides she was able to do them up herself, and she worked determinedly until they were pulled as tight as she could manage. Something about the construction of the garment made the constriction much less... constricting than she'd expected. Even though it felt very snug, and pulled her waist and tummy in by several inches, it wasn't -quite- uncomfortable.

It actually felt rather nice, like being hugged close by someone across every inch of her lower torso. It made her happier with her image in the mirror, too, though of course her chubby thighs and ass were still all-too visible. The emerald green skirt she had laid out earlier was still on the bed, and she picked it up. Her character sometimes wore short skirts, though most of the time her outfit was basically a one-piece swimsuit that left her super-long legs bare except for what the boots covered. Harmony, still feeling inadequate, opted for the skirt, and slid it on, over her high-heels (with some difficulty) and up into place at her waist. It was short, though still long enough to help disguise the size of her bottom. And it swished back and forth as she walked, she discovered when she took another experimental turn around the bedroom.

There was nothing to be done about her breasts, of course. Unlike Cordelia (who was already endowed to a totally unfair degree), Harmony _wasn't_ going to stuff her top. Granted, the dark-haired head cheerleader looked absolutely stunning in her cunningly padded outfit; any male who saw her outlandishly huge breasts would probably end up tripping over his own tongue. Personally, Harmony thought that was a little crude, especially coming from someone who kept complaining about how all the female comic book characters were 'blatant male wish fulfillment'. Nope, there was no way she was going to do that kind of thing herself; she had too much pride.

Besides... she'd already totally screwed up the little gel insert thingies from the best 'enhancing' bra her mother had gotten her, trying to cut them free and fasten them into the corset.

She sighed one last time, combed her hair back from her face (getting some shimmery gold on her fingers for her trouble) and turned her back on the mirror.

"I guess that's as good as it's going to get," she told the empty room, with an overly-wide, somewhat tremulous smile. "Let's get going! I'll show them I'm as good a super-babe as any of them!"

Her hands flitted nervously from her breasts to her tummy to her behind, and her smile faltered and died. With a look that held more dread than actual confidence, she walked out the door and into the gathering night.

* * *

Ragnarok had come, and somehow the Enchantress was squarely in the middle of the chaos. Looking around quickly, Amora tried to determine where exactly she had appeared.

Midgard, of course; that much was clear. The air stank of burnt chemicals, and the night sky was hazy with pollutants. Equally obvious was the fact that this was America. She'd been here many times, either doing battle with various superheroes, or else simply enjoying the pleasures that modern society could provide her. Shopping, especially, was quite a wonderful diversion; even moreso when one did not have to actually pay for anything purchased.

A nearby howl distracted her from her musings; the details could wait, for now she must take care not to get caught up in the fighting.

For fighting there was: this place, be it large town or smallish city, was fair teeming with demons, and monsters of every conceivable description. Scattered melees had broken out up and down the street where she stood, though in some cases she saw groups of creatures banding together with a gleam of purpose in their inhuman eyes.

A errant gust of wind pulled soft skeins of her impossibly lustrous, knee-length hair across her face, and tangled it sensuously around her slim form. She made an impatient gesture, and murmured a certain Word. Immediately her golden mane rippled, moving of its own accord until it was conveniently behind her shoulders, where it would now remain, loosely flowing and yet orderly and perfect, no matter what might transpire.

Moving quickly, though without unseemly haste, the tall woman strode across the street. When she reached the foot of the tallest building in sight, she traced a glowing rune in the air with one slender, graceful hand. A moment later her boots left the ground, and she floated slowly upwards. This was not flight; that was a much more complex working. The simple levitation spell was more than sufficient, however, to raise her the four stories to roof level, and seconds later she was stepping daintily onto the flat, gritty expanse atop the structure.

A quick survey of the skyline (such as it was) told her that she had never visited this place before... at least not within the span of a human lifetime. In the distant past, perhaps, she might have passed through. Perhaps she had even dallied upon the shore she could see in the distance, passing a pleasant day, or week, or month with one of the short-lived mortals who occasionally caught her fancy. Tonight, however, there was nothing here that charmed her. A quick departure was definitely in order. She would return to her palace in eternal Asgard, locate whoever was responsible for her abrupt materialization here, and then make the fool suffer for the indignity of this--

"Ah you Sarah Connah?"

The deep, somehow metallic voice startled her, and she whirled to see a looming shape stepping out of the shadows. At first glance it seemed human, though a large example of the species, and she relaxed for a moment. If there was one thing she need never fear, it was a human male. They were so easy to enthrall, after all--

"Ah you Sarah Connah?!" the figure demanded again, more loudly, and now Amora saw the glowing red points that floated in the center of the bulky man's eyes.

Her own eyes, a flawless, dazzling green that outshone any mere emerald, narrowed in response. Rather than answer the creature, she raised her hand and drew it through a slow, intricate pattern. The figure strode slowly forward for the long moments it took to cast the spell, his massive boots crunching upon the rooftop with unnatural heaviness. He was barely ten feet away when the eldritch energies the sorceress was gathering finally reached fruition, and then the rooftop was bathed in a searing, acid green light.

The mystic bolt struck the figure with the force of a speeding juggernaut--or perhaps one of the mortal world's 'Mac trucks', lifting the man into the air and hurling him backwards to crash into the rooftop machinery with bone-shattering force. The form slumped and lay still, and she nodded in satisfaction.

"No," she murmured as she turned to again survey the town. "I am most definitely _not_ Sarah Connah."

A minute passed as she opened her mystic senses wide, and a tiny pout graced her perfect, ruby-tinted lips.

"What I am, is most emphatically confused." The admission would have surprised any of her immortal contemporaries. Was she not Amora, the Asgardian Enchantress? Was she not one of the most skilled magicians in all the Nine Worlds?

Her (only occasionally disputed) position as the most beautiful woman in those same Nine Worlds did not, unfortunately, help her in the current situation, though of course her awareness of her supreme beauty was seldom far from her thoughts.

Here, now, the problem was that she could not sense Bifrost. The Rainbow Bridge, prime access point between Midgard (Earth) and Asgard (her own home dimension) might move from place to place, but it was always present, somewhere, on the mortal plane. At the moment, however, she could detect not the slightest trace of its presence. Oh, there _was_ a dimensional anomaly; some manner of chaotic dimensional interface or gateway was throbbing beneath this town like a massive, dark-tinged heart. That very darkness, however, made her wary of seeking it out and attempting to use it as a means of returning home. If it was attuned to the lower, more savage dimensions, then it would be a long, possibly dangerous journey, and she much preferred paths that were more comfortable, and less fraught with peril.

Amora sighed. Until she learned more of the current situation, it was probably wisest to simply lie low, gather some thralls to serve her, and wait to see how things evolved. This was not, in fact, Ragnarok, the ultimate battle that was said to lie at the end of the world. For one thing, she saw no towering demons of flame, and Surtur's ilk would surely be present in force if the world were indeed tottering towards extinction.

There was, however, something here. She sensed it at the edges of things. There was a fraying at the place where reality's fabric brushed against this place. Or, even more intriguing, a re-weaving of that fabric. Another god was involved, someone perverse, chaotic and cruel. She, of course, as a royal of Asgard, was immune to whatever effect was being overlaid upon the mundane world, but it might well be what was causing the disturbances in the street below. Perhaps it was even behind the sudden appearance of--

"Terminate Sarah Connah!"

She shrieked out loud when the hand grabbed her arm with crushing force, much to her shame. It was the same figure as before, though looking much worse for wear, now. The burly man leaned his face close to hers; not difficult, when she was nearly as tall as he in her high-heeled boots. She gasped when she saw the gleam of metal beneath the torn flesh of his cheek, and the obviously artificial eye now revealed, still glowing malevolently red in the darkness.

"A golem?" she whispered, trying to pull away. "Is this some dwarven trick? An ambush, to slay me in this forsaken place?"

Beautiful she was, powerful and seductive as no other female in all the worlds she might be, but the Asgardian Enchantress was not universally loved. Far from it, in fact... and perhaps for those very reasons. The machine-within-a-man did not answer her. Instead, it held her arm tight with one steel-boned hand, and clamped the other around her pale, lovely throat.

And then it _squeezed_.

She struggled, her free hand moving by reflex into the gestures of spellcasting... to no avail. Any magic would take too long; already the world around her was swimming. Her lungs yet held air--it was the blood that was being blocked by the ever-tightening grip. Blood she needed, else consciousness would flee, with life close behind. Desperately she took hold of the machine's forearm. She could feel the cold alloy rods moving within the clammy flesh, a caricature of a living being. Her slender, shapely fingers dug deeply there, her long nails driving inwards until they scraped metallic bones. With all the strength that was in her, she pulled.

The machine seemed unconcerned at her actions. It was, after all, many times stronger than any human.

Amora was no mere human.

She was no warrior, true. She did not waste her time with training at weapons, or honing her body with endless drill and the hurling about of heavy weights. The only time she exerted herself physically was in the bedroom (though her exploits there were the stuff of legend). No, she left the brutish, physical battles to the hairy oafs more suited to the task; those such as Hogun, or Volstagg, or Sif. Still, she was a daughter of Asgard, and as such she was far superior to any human.

Superior, too, to any grinning metal puppet.

With a fierce effort she pulled the hand from her throat, slowly, and against the continued attempts of the machine man to keep it there. Its face could not register surprise, though she imagined she could hear dismay and confusion in the whine of its straining motors. The hand gripping her other wrist was squeezing hard enough to shatter mortal bone, and though it pained her, she refused to show weakness. Instead she drove the automaton back, step by slow step, until it teetered on the edge of the roof. It remained so completely focused on its attempts to kill her that it never saw the danger until its feet found nothing but empty air beneath them. When it tottered backwards it held tight to her arm, attempting to bring her along as it fell. She did not allow that. Releasing her grip, she used her fist to smash the thing's elbow joint, the blow landing like a daintier version of Thor's own hammer. Already battered by her earlier spell, the arm gave way, leaving the hand and some attached arm still hanging from her wrist as the rest of the machine fell in silence to crash upon the street below.

Amora pried the hand free, and tossed it down to join the rest. This time she did not turn away, waiting instead until the infernal device stirred once more, looked up to meet her gaze, and then dragged itself awkwardly to the base of the wall. When it dug gleaming fingertips into the very brick and began to climb, the golden-haired sorceress gave a resigned sigh.

"Where, oh _where_ is my Thor, when there is finally a use for all those muscles?"

Wincing a bit at the pain from her bruised arm and throat, she sent her agile fingers dancing through an intricate pattern, while at the same time whispering a summons to the hordes of tiny elementals that swirled through all matter. The spell she used would not have affected a living being in any way; the elementals were barred from that by decree of almighty Odin himself. Against an unliving device, however, there was no such obstacle.

Energies built, channeled through the blazing lens of her Asgardian life-force, and before the machine had climbed even a third of the distance separating them, she let the spell fly.

The creature disintegrated.

Quickly, quietly, and without undue fuss. The metal within the flesh slumped into dust, and poured out through every tear in the fleshy envelope that surrounded it. The remaining meat fell back to the ground, and this time it lay still and did not stir again.

Amora stood back from the edge of the roof, hoping that there would be no further encounters such as that. Worriedly, she cast another brief spell with the ease of long practice. A shimmering disc appeared in the air, hovering before her at a convenient height. A faint glow came from it, softly illuminating her face as she peered at her reflection in the insubstantial mirror. A relieved sigh escaped her perfect lips when she found her face undamaged. She was a powerful sorceress, yes, and a fiercely intelligent woman. Still, her flawless face and magnificent body were her most treasured possessions, and she guarded them both jealously. The greater portion of her magic was devoted maintaining and enhancing her beauty, and also in using it to fulfill her every whim and desire.

She cast a spell to heal the bruises at wrist and throat, and spent another minute or two with minor cosmetic workings to repair the mussing caused by the brief struggle. As she was finishing, the sound of flapping wings from overhead drew her gaze upwards. There, against the disc of the nearly-full moon, she could see a massive winged shape soaring.

"A gargoyle," she whispered, wonderingly... then she frowned prettily. "Though I have never seen a gargoyle with a head of long, ebon hair!"

Clearly there was no safe place to hide, not while every sort of creature imaginable (and a few that were not) prowled this town. She glanced into her illusionary mirror again, just long enough to cast an unnecessary de-tangling spell on her gloriously golden mane. Then she dispelled it, stepped to the edge of the roof, and cast another levitation to lower herself to street level once more.

There was more than one way to remain safe in the midst of a battle, and it was time she played to her strengths.

Not for nothing was she known as The Enchantress.

* * *

Monsters abounded this night, that was quite plain to see. Amora, however, had noticed that there were others abroad in the streets as well. Some were merely the usual human cattle, fleeing and bleating in blind terror, some managing to escape, others falling prey to the demonic and bestial predators that pursued them. Others, however, were neither monsters nor prey, and it was towards the nearest of these that she walked, the heels of her boots clicking rhythmically as she swayed forward. The man whirled, one hand coming up to steady the battered fedora atop his head, the other holding a coiled whip.

"Hold it right there, lady!" he called out, his voice tense, though not especially afraid. Amora liked that; he should serve quite well. She continued to approach him, the graceful sway of her hips accentuated by the short skirt that swished back and forth in time with her movements. His eyes fell to track that motion, and she smiled faintly. Of course he looked; few who lived could resist her when she employed her most powerful weapons in this way.

"Hold it," he tried again, his voice less certain now.

"No," she told him, her voice a thing of softest silk, the very sound caressing him like a lover's touch. She raised one hand, idly brushing it along her full, perfect breasts, watching as his eyes followed helplessly. Stepping in close, stopping only when she was within arm's reach, she raised that hand and lovingly caressed her cheek, snaring his eyes with her emerald gaze as she did so.

"Kiss me," she breathed, even as she gathered her magic into her exquisitely formed lips. He didn't resist, could not resist, and when the kiss had ended her power had already bound him in chains that were as powerful as they were intangible.

"Do you love me?" she asked, almost playfully.

The man nodded frantically, nearly losing his hat in the process. Amora smiled.

"Excellent. Then of course you must protect me."

"Yes! I will!" he exclaimed, his eyes wide as if he sought to devour every inch of her exquisite form. Gunshots from around the corner drowned out the rest of his adoring words, and she was not particularly interested in hearing them at the moment anyway. Careful not to endanger herself, Amora peered around the edge of the building. Another of the non-monster individuals was crouched in a doorway, standing protectively over a wailing woman, and a smaller, motionless form. The gun-wielding figure was holding several creatures at bay, though the blood that streamed down one side of her face made it clear that she had not escaped the battle unscathed.

Feeling just the slightest bit reckless now that she once again had a love struck warrior to protect her, Amora decided she needed to add this person to her collection. From her place of concealment she cast another mystical bolt, this time the more elaborate version that required both hands, and resulted in an even more powerful effect. She gestured and whispered for the span of three long, slow breaths, grateful for both the distraction provided by the hero before her, and the bewitched thrall guarding her back. The spell, when it erupted, was a blast of green force so dense it was nearly solid, and it threw the attackers back as if they'd each been struck by an angry titan.

The Enchantress swayed a bit; by this time she was growing somewhat tired. Forcing the weariness away for the moment, she strode into view, her hands judiciously raised as the figure turned two very large handguns towards her.

"Don't," she said, her voice as soft and caressing as ever. "I'm here to help."

The woman--for woman it was--quirked one delicate eyebrow in response, but did not fire. Amora blinked when she got close; the woman was even more beautiful than she'd first thought. True, the breasts were outsized, even larger than her own full, perfect orbs. Even so, the woman's body was lithe and well-formed, and her shining brown hair was woven into a thick braid that brushed her trim backside. More than that, this gun-wielding warrior exuded pure sex from every pore, even standing there in khaki shorts and a blood-stained tank top.

Amora would have been jealous, if not for her own unshakable self-confidence. She was easily more beautiful than the woman before her, and her sex appeal was second to none. No, this woman was no threat to her in any way. To the contrary, actually; she represented a magnificient trophy that the Enchantress simply _had_ to possess.

"I'm Amora," she said, walking closer. The two persons the woman was protecting were now visible as a battered young woman, and a motionless child, possibly her son. There were copious amounts of blood on the boy; streaming from deep claw marks that covered his face and chest.

"I'm Lara," the woman with the amazing breasts finally said, her voice surprisingly deep, with a rich, delightful accent that made something inside Amora clench with awakening lust. "Lara Croft. What sort of weapon did you use on them?" This, as she crouched beside the boy and began tearing his tattered shirt into strips, making pads which she then pressed firmly against the still-bleeding wounds.

"No weapon," the Enchantress told her, watching as the glorious creature fought to save the boy's life. It looked to be a losing fight, and finally, (and not without a careful calculation of her current energy levels), she knelt gracefully beside the boy, across from Lara. "Here, let me."

The healing spell outlined her hands in soft, emerald-hued light, and she took a small amount of delight in the wondering expression on the human woman's face (the mother, crying and jabbering incoherently, she ignored as inconsequential). It was difficult; Illusion and seduction were her primary gifts, along with some lesser magicks that could alter the physical world in specific ways. Healing was a discipline all its own, and not one that had ever interested her, beyond preserving her own precious life, of course.

Even so, a goddess of Asgard was not easily denied, and this time was no exception. Within minutes the boy's eyes were fluttering open, and his breathing came more easily. The worst of the wounds were sealed over with fragile new skin, and the mother was sobbing now with tears of relief. Lara looked at Amora with gratitude in her eyes... and no fear at all, which likely meant that she had encountered the supernatural before.

"You saved him," she said, a smile on her rather gorgeous lips. Amora smiled back, trying not to let her weariness show.

"A gift for you, my lovely warrior," she told the woman, and then she leaned in and kissed that remarkable mouth with her own. Tired she might have been, but the Enchantress was never so exhausted that she could not wind a vulnerable heart around her little finger. When she pulled away (reluctantly), Lara was staring at her with love struck awe.

"Are you mine?" Amora asked needlessly.

"Always!" Lara swore, crawling forward on hands and knees to kneel worshipfully at the feet of her goddess.

At that moment, a small horde of shambling zombies discovered them, and both of her defenders were quickly very busy protecting their mistress. As Lara dropped her foes with perfectly placed headshots from her pistols, and Doctor Jones (as he told them he was called) used his whip to swing up and over the first line of undead and quickly begin spreading a pool of gasoline from a can he'd spotted beside a stalled car, Amora wondered once more just what had caused this event. She raised a shield as Jones ignited the gasoline he'd spread, instantly engulfing the entire second wave of zombies. The barrier wasn't impenetrable; it was adequate, however, to keep the burning undead from stumbling into her, the mother, and the wounded boy until her protectors could finish them. Once these were taken care of, she would gather a few more, and then go somewhere to wait things out. Mystical eruptions such as this were usually short-lived, at least on the mortal plane. When it had passed, she would return to her life as it had been, as an immortal goddess, living, scheming, and loving the centuries away in Asgard.

Frankly, she couldn't wait for all of this to be over and done.

* * *

Harmony blinked, and nearly stumbled because of the high heels she still wasn't used to wearing. Looking around, she saw that it was still night, and the streets were still scenes of confusion. Now, though, it wasn't rampaging gangs of monsters that were the source of the chaos, it was the aftermath, as everyone still able suddenly found themselves once more... well, 'themselves'. The blonde girl blinked again, standing stock-still as she processed the last few hours.

She remembered it, all of it, with perfect clarity. She'd known that Sunnydale was a weird place, of course, but _this_!. She could even guess the cause of it, now that she was no longer bound up in the middle of the effect. An invocation, no doubt drawing on some extra-dimensional entity of great power and antiquity... a greater demon or abandoned god, probably. Frowning suddenly, it occurred to her that her thoughts were moving more quickly than they usually did. Things seemed... clearer, less hazy and confusing.

_Probably a temporary residual effect of the magic,_ she thought, her inner voice turning bitter. _And it sucks, too, because I know exactly how much I had, for that little while, and how much I've lost now that I'm back to just being dumb ol' Harmony again._

All that power, all that _beauty_. Intelligence, self-confidence... everything that she'd never had before, and would never have again. She started walking again, deciding that she'd better get home before the police got themselves straightened out and started rounding up everyone as looters.

She made it half a block, glad that her Amora self had sent her thralls off on various intelligence-gathering missions once her energies had recovered enough for her to protect herself with magick once more. If any of them had been with her when things reverted to normal.... She shuddered just thinking of how embarrassing it would have been for someone to see her morphing from the perfection of the Enchantress back into the bland, ordinary, very non-special form of a chunky little high-school girl. She passed by a shop window just then, one that was miraculously unbroken, and she almost tripped again.

The girl in the window, the woman, rather, wasn't her. Or at least, it wasn't the 'her' she was used to seeing. She was taller, for one thing, probably a little over six feet in her heels. And her legs! They went on nearly forever, and were absolutely perfect in their non-chubbiness. Every part of her was perfect, actually, from her firm ass to her tiny waist to her full (but not crazy-big) breasts. Her face was so exquisite that it belonged on a magazine cover--only no magazine could afford to hire someone who looked as beautiful as that. Her hair, too, was hers and not-hers; long and blonde, yeah, but thicker than what she usually walked around with, and softer, and falling all the way to her knees! The deep, burnished gold of it didn't wipe off on her hands when she grabbed up a double handful, either, and she had to concentrate on steadying her breathing when she caught herself almost hyperventilating.

Her hands roamed over her body, her eyes glued to the image in the dark glass. She looked even hotter than whatsername, the girl in the _Elektra_ movie. Similar, in that she was tall, and slim and fit-looking, only her own curves were just a little fuller all over. And of course there was the impossible gorgeousness of every single inch of her.

"This...." She gulped, only now realizing that her voice had changed too. The habitual whining note was nowhere in evidence now. Instead it was soft, and velvety, and so rich that it sounded good enough to eat. "This isn't real... is it?"

Maybe it wasn't. Maybe she was still caught in the spell, lost in the altered reality that had been laid over Sunnydale like a blanket earlier that night. She supposed there could still be lingering whirls energy that were holding the artificial matrix in place, especially with the dimensional rift active below the town.

Harmony paused, considering the fact that she still knew so much about how magic worked. If that was still the case, and if her physical form was still in the altered, Amora shape, then maybe....

She looked down, noting that her leggings and high heels had morphed at some point into actual boots, as thigh-high, skin-tight and supple as anything in the comic books. The left one had been torn during a scuffle with a smallish demon, before Indy had decked the thing with a right cross to its little jaw. The Enchantress, an even bigger diva about her clothes than Cordelia at her worst, had an extensive repertoire of spells to deal with such things. So, just to see....

Harmony's hand traced a Norse rune across the green leather of the boot, her nail leaving a glowing line across the material as it moved. There was a tiny, almost imperceptible tugging in her tummy as her energies were drawn into the spell, and then....

The damage was gone, erased like it had never been.

"Wow...!" She breathed in hushed excitement. Unable to resist, her eyes darted around frantically until she found a public telephone, mounted on a post outside a 7-11. The area was deserted at the moment; everyone who could get inside had long since gotten inside. Looking at the phone, which was about thirty feet away, Harmony raised her hand again (pausing momentarily to admire how her fingers were now long, and graceful, and sported some really killer, perfect nails). This spell took longer than the mending one, a slow count of one... two... three.... She knew how to do it, though, and when it was completed a bolt of laser-pure emerald light slammed across the intervening distance like something out of Star Wars. The tugging in her belly was sharper this time, and she felt momentarily tired, and out of breath like she'd just run up a flight of stairs. Still, the bolt had done as she'd intended, smashing the phone into mangled junk. Loose change chimed and rolled across the ground as it spilled out, and she laughed long and loud, her beautiful new voice ringing out like bells made of purest gold.

"How about now, mother?" she demanded of the empty parking lot. "Am I special enough for you _now_?!"


	2. The long walk from Point A to Point B

"'Be seeing you'? What's that supposed to mean?" Harmony asked as she read aloud from the little handwritten card that had been left on the counter. She frowned, glancing around at the empty shop. Other than a few barren, forlorn-looking displays, the place had been stripped--impressive work for just a few hours' time, unless 'Ethan' had had some help.

The Enchantress stood idly tapping one long nail against her pouting lower lip as she considered the situation.

This place was definitely the center of the magical working that had taken place earlier that night; the entire building was still shining with residual energies (at least, for those with eyes to see). She had no idea _why_ the man had done such a thing; if he'd still been here then she would have asked him.

And, obviously, she would have thanked him also. Even if most of the people affected had suffered to some degree from the event, Harmony Kendall had most definitely come out ahead.

_Very, very far ahead!_ she thought, agreeing emphatically with herself. _I head to a party in a costume, and by the end of the night I'm a Norse Goddess straight out of a comic book, with a new body and magical powers to boot!_

Harmony was grinning foolishly now, knew it, and didn't much care. With one pointing finger she directed the small ball of light hovering at her shoulder to zoom around the interior of the shop. The sphere cast a clear, golden illumination as it zipped and whirled--proving, incidentally, that not _all_ of her spells had a green glow... which was a relief, because she'd started to wonder about this 'Amora' chick's obsession with green. A few moments later she tired of the game, stopped playing with her glowy ball, and let it return to her side as she walked carefully back to examine the stockroom again.

Though she didn't know why Ethan had cast the spell, it seemed obvious that it had not ended as planned. She might be brand new to the spellcasting thing, true, but she doubted most sorcerers would smash their magical sculpted head on the floor as the preferred means of turning a spell off.

"It's chaos magic," she murmured to herself, shivering a little at the feel of the residual energies dancing along her skin. "I don't know how I know it's chaos magic, I don't know what it means that it's chaos magic... I just know."

She shook her head in irritation, glancing down at the card again.

'_Be Seeing You._'

Surely he hadn't meant her; Harmony had been just one more victim among hundreds. Unless he'd somehow known that she was special, that she would retain her new persona's abilities when everyone else changed back?

She headed back to the front door, her light obediently showing her the way. There was too much she didn't know, and tonight wasn't the time to try and figure things out. She'd taken the slight detour to the costume shop when she'd sensed the mystical emanations of the place, but now it was time to get home. Since she didn't have any pockets in her costume, and her purse had been lost somewhere along the way, she moved to put the card back on the counter where she'd found it. Pausing halfway as something occurred to her, she smiled impishly, and pressed a kiss against the card, atop the handwriting there. With a perfect, lipsticked image of her lips now gracing the note, she left it there for him to find should he return.

_I'll be seeing you too, mister Ethan,_ she promised silently. _And when I do, you're going to answer some questions... though I promise to ask very nicely._

* * * * *

As luck would have it, Harmony's adventures while being submerged in Amora's personality had left her on the far side of town from her house. Without a cell phone, money, or anything else besides the (admittedly sexy) clothes on her back, she was reduced to walking. Ordinarily that would have been a near impossibility, given the height of the heels on her nifty new boots. Goddesses, however, seemed to come equipped with some seriously super strong ankles, because she'd covered something like ten blocks so far without even a twinge.

_It's getting a little chilly out here too, and I'm not cold at all,_ she noticed while crossing yet another deserted street. _Guess that makes sense; Norse gods, Norway--not exactly a tropical paradise where this woman comes from, so she must be used to it._

That begged the question: just how real was 'Amora', anyway? Given that her head was now full to bursting with the goddess' memories and knowledge, Harmony couldn't help but wonder about its source.

_Okay, the spell made me think I was this person, that much I can believe. The thing is, there is just waaaay too much info here for a spell to have created it all out of nothing._

With only half her attention on her surroundings, the girl considered the strange vistas that opened up in her mind when she thought about 'her' life in the place called Asgard. It was dizzying. Not just the wonder of the scenes she saw there, but the sheer weight of those memories. Thousands of years of life, all of it as clear as her own recollections of last week here in Sunnydale. So far as she could tell there was no actual consciousness there, no independent mind that would fight her for control... there was only the entire history of a remarkable, powerful woman. Too much history for it all to have come from the comic books that had inspired her costume.

_Alternate reality?_ she wondered, strolling down a sidewalk that was littered with shattered bits of pumpkin, careful not to get any on her boots. _Maybe the spell used my costume as a template for the changes, but something else got involved, and reached into a universe where Amora is real... and copied all her memories to me._ She nodded to herself excitedly, following the train of thought as it raced ahead. _Sure, that would work. Especially if I already had some latent potential for magic, or even a connection, however tenuous, to the Norse pantheon--mystical symmetry! Isn't our family originally from somewhere in Scandinavia? Dad's folks are all blue-eyed blondes, and I remember a great-grandfather named Sigurd, so...._

She blinked, stopping suddenly as she realized how far and fast her musings had taken her.

"Um," she said, thinking out loud now, since that seemed somehow safer. "That was very weird." Of course her voice was strange too now, a soft, warm, vibrant thing that seemed expressly designed to mess with men's minds... and lower places, too. Even that, however, wasn't as jarring as having her slow, clunky, confused little mind suddenly upgraded to seriously 'gifted' status. Wherever she was, and regardless of how 'real' she might be, it seemed that Amora was nearly as smart as she was sexy.

And she was very, very sexy.

"Hey there, sexy!"

_See?_ she thought, smugly. _I'm not the only one who thinks so._

Harmony turned with studied elegance, one hand brushing back the long, silky-soft hair that had slipped forward past her shoulder. She had apparently been so lost in her thoughts that the sound of the battered orange van pulling up beside her hadn't registered. The man with his head sticking out was smiling broadly, and she automatically smiled back. His eyes widened as he got a better look at her; she supposed he hadn't expected her face to live up to the body displayed by her outfit.

"Nice costume," he told her, his eyes dropping to the upper curves of her breasts, neatly confirming her suspicions as to why he'd stopped. With effort he raised his eyes to hers. "Kinda late for a walk, especially with all the craziness tonight. Want a ride?"

Harmony hesitated, struggling to resolve two distinct sets of responses. Amora would have instantly said yes, climbed into the van, and proceeded to charm the man with her beauty and wit as he drove... without ever once allowing him to actually touch her. He was more than a little scruffy, and a goddess had her standards. Still, there would be no fear or uncertainty there, since, well: _Goddess_.

Her own, merely human instincts, would have her saying 'thanks, but no thanks', and then walking quickly away. There was a difference between 'dim' and 'completely stupid', and even at her worst Harmony wasn't completely lacking suspicion of strange guys approaching attractive young girls.

Caught between those two opposing impulses, she hesitated for a long moment. Long enough for him to grow visibly impatient, and also for her to notice that he was... drooling?

"Come on, hop in," he invited, but she took a long step back instead. He was drooling, and trying to hide it. Even though she knew she looked utterly hot now, that seemed a little odd.

"I'll walk," she told him, trying to make her voice as flat and unsexy as she could; no sense in encouraging him. "Thanks anyway."

She was prepared for him to get angry, even for him to yell at her and call her names. What she wasn't expecting was for his face to change in a quicksilver blur, becoming something hideous and cruel. With a snarl he yanked the parking brake, threw open the door, and dropped onto the sidewalk in front of her.

"Listen, babe. I scented you from three blocks away. You are not going to tell me 'no' after that kind of tease."

Harmony stood her ground; not easily, even with Amora's pride backing her resolve.

"Scented me?" she asked, forcing her voice to remain calm and detached, like she hadn't a care in the world. The man nodded.

"The most incredible thing I've ever smelled in my life. I just _had_ to track you down and see if you looked as good as you smelled. And damned if you don't look even better." He wiped a strand of drool from his lip, and she saw the fangs. The real Enchantress would no doubt have already been smiling seductively and running admiring hands over his shoulders while telling him what big muscles he had. Harmony thought she deserved a medal for not passing out on the spot.

"What do I smell like?" she managed, trying to buy some time in which to get her brain working again. Surprisingly, the man--the manlike thing, rather--actually took a few seconds to answer, seeming like he himself was a little puzzled by her.

"Like softness," he said, finally. "Like silk, too... and sex. Candy. Heat. Perfume. Gold." A nod to the hair that swirled and shimmered and caressed her from shoulders to calves in response to even the tiniest breeze. "You smell like beauty, little lady, and I mean to drink you down like a fine wine." He smiled widely, showing his fangs again, purposely this time, seeming to enjoy her wide-eyed stare.

_Vampire,_ she thought incredulously, her stunned mind finally kicking into gear. _He's really a vampire, not another person who stayed in their costume form when the spell ended, like I did._ She could see the cold, hard darkness of his aura, now that she thought to look for it; he really was what he appeared to be... which meant that Sunnydale was, incredibly, even stranger than she'd thought. _The dimensional fracture under the town; it's possible that it opens sometimes, and lets things slip through... and even if it doesn't, the dark energies it radiates must draw them, even from thousands of miles away. There's probably an insane concentration of them here--no wonder there are so many deaths... neck ruptures!_ Her mind was racing again, just like before, leapfrogging from idea to idea in a lightning-quick chain that almost made her dizzy. _Vampire attacks, it has to be, but that means that the authorities know... and are covering it up... why? Why would they do that, what reason would they have to keep people ignorant of the danger in staying here?_

Fast as her mind worked now, in this case it had made her do something stupid: hesitate. The vampire, done with talking, took another step forward and grabbed her. Without her arms free, Harmony couldn't cast any spells, and she slipped a little bit closer to actual panic. She briefly considered kissing him, and trying Amora's signature love spell, but those fangs were entirely too close already. She tried screaming, and it only made him laugh.

"Nobody's coming back outside tonight, sweetness," he told her. "Too much weirdness out here for the nice, stupid people to face. Lucky for me that I decided to take another look around after Spike ordered everybody back to the lair." She screamed again, louder, as he leaned slowly forward, his bare fangs reaching for her neck, drool spilling from his mouth to stain her top. "You really do smell good enough to eat... think I might try that after I finish you...."

When the tip of his fang touched her skin Harmony stopped trying to think of something to do, and simply lashed out. He was holding her tightly by her upper arms... and it didn't matter. When she shoved him the grip slipped loose, and he flew backwards and smashed into the side of his van, hard enough to stave in the side. She staggered back a step herself; unprepared for that kind of result. The vampire was still on his feet, just momentarily stunned, and looking comically surprised. Deciding that the time had come for this goddess to kick a little ass, the Enchantress stepped forward, folded her graceful hand into a fist, and drove it at his face. Stunned though he might have been, the vampire still managed to duck beneath the blow, and Harmony's hand punched through the side of the van, nearly to the elbow.

"Ow," she said, a bit uncertainly, as it hadn't really hurt all that much. _Wow, I'm really very strong, aren't I?_ was her main thought as she pulled her hand free.

At which point a very large, very angry linebacker from the Sunnydale High football team slammed into her from behind.

Or at least that's what it felt like as she was driven face-first into the van, getting an extremely close look at the chipped paint in the process. She whirled around, trying to catch her breath, and a dirty work boot planted itself deep in her belly. She grunted, and leaned forward some in reflex, though not so far that she didn't see the follow-up kick coming in time to straighten up out of the way.

"Not just a random skirt, are ya?" the man snarled at her. "Must be that Slayer girl everyone's always yammering about." He feinted with his right fist, she flinched away, and he used his left to land a solid roundhouse to the side of her skull, jolting her head to the side and sending a flash of pain through her. "You're not as fast as I thought you'd be," he continued, sounding calmer now. He feinted again, this time with the left hand, and when she flinched away he landed another roundhouse, with his right this time, to the other side of her head. Another flash of pain, though again it failed to do more than make her stagger back a step. "Actually, girl, I don't think you can fight worth shit."

_I think you're right,_ Harmony thought to herself. _Even if I don't know who this 'Slayer' person is you're talking about._ She tried a wild swing of her own, aiming for his smug smile, but motion felt slow and awkward, and she didn't even get close. Worse, he laughed out loud, even as he punched her in the belly three times in rapid succession before bouncing away in time to avoid her clumsy swipe. Even though she'd endured his attack well enough, her midriff ached, and she knew that a few more hits there would cause some real damage. A quick one-two combination to her face made her eyes water and her nose start leaking blood in a single trail she could feel creeping down her upper lip.

_Okay, this isn't working,_ she told herself, quite unnecessarily. _Amora isn't any kind of fighter, and neither am I. I'm stronger than this thing, and tougher too... neither of which matters at all if I can't hit him!_

The answer to that seemed straightforward, so she started casting a forcebolt spell. That had worked great earlier, after all....

Not so this time. She'd barely started gesturing, the first glimmers of wicked green had only just begun to gather around her fingers, when the vampire leapt forward, thrust her arm to the side, and hit her with a vicious jab directly in her left breast.

_That_ hurt her, and she lost the thread of her concentration as she gasped in pain.

"Magic too, sweetheart?" he snapped at her. "I ain't never heard of a Slayer doing magic before." Not waiting for her answer, he hit her again, and yet _again_, all in the same breast, and each time with brutal strength and speed behind the blows. She tried to curl in on herself, tried to shield her vulnerable body from his attacks. He was having none of it. With a savage twist he brought her arm up behind her back, using the leverage to hold it trapped with one hand pinning her wrist. His other hand caught up her hair, winding around and around in those endless cascades of silken gold until his fist was tight against the back of her head, holding it motionless despite her frantic struggles.

"You're pretty tough, aren't ya?" he asked, his face pressed against her bare shoulder, his stubble scratching at her soft skin. The fact she was several inches taller than he, that the big, tough vampire had to stretch just a little to whisper in her ear might have been funny... if not for the things he proceeded to whisper.

"Don't matter how strong you are, does it? Not if you can't fight. Don't matter if you've got magic, if I don't stand there like a goon and let you wiggle your pretty little fingers." His body was pressed up against hers, and it was unfortunately very obvious that he was, um... very happy too see her.

Very.

"Does the fact that I'm incredibly _hot_ matter in some way?" she asked softly, though the continuing pain from her abused breast kept trying to force whimpers from her instead of calm speech. "Maybe we can work out a... deal."

Since he was behind her she couldn't watch his face for his reaction, though judging from the way he pressed even more firmly against her he wasn't completely opposed to the idea.

"So... what?" he asked, using his grip in her hair to yank her head back a little further, exposing the pale arch of her throat. She could feel his foul breath spilling across her skin as he pressed his face there and inhaled deeply. "You offering to bang me, before I kill you?" She felt, rather than saw his grin, from the scrape of the stubble. "'Cause believe me, babe, it isn't gonna be one or the other. Not with quality merchandise like you."

"Umm...."

For an instant, Harmony considered it. Having sex with him, in the hopes that at some point there would be an opportunity for her to turn the tables and escape.

Actually, it took somewhat less than an instant.

"On second thought, no."

A second passed, then two, then three, then--

"Huh?"

She smiled grimly; scary vampire or not, he wasn't exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer. That might help.

"I said no," she told him, her voice firm now. "'Enchantress' doesn't equal 'slut'. No deal."

He shook her head, his grip on her hair tightening, and with his other hand he twisted her arm until her shoulder felt like it was going to explode.

"Well the fact is, what you want doesn't count for shit!" he shouted in her ear. "I'm gonna kill you, whore! First I'm gonna screw you, then I'm gonna drink you dry, and then I'm gonna screw you some more just for givin' me so much--!"

Calmly, and with great precision, Harmony lifted one dainty, booted foot off the ground, lined it up, gathered all the strength in her shapely leg, and then drove it downwards, spiking the vampire's foot to the concrete with the five-inch heel.

"They make good boots in Asgard, don't they?" she asked, as his hold on her arm and hair loosened. She twisted around enough to see him, just as he let out an ear-piercing scream.

Harmony didn't wait for him to finish. She'd had time enough to consider her options now, and she was pretty sure she had it figured out. Besides, she'd been getting really tired of him drooling on her like that.

With both hands clenched into fists, she punched out at him. He was in too much pain to dodge very well, and besides, he had one hand wound up in her hair, and one foot nailed to the ground... which made it pretty hard to perform any fancy fighting moves. Her fists smashed into his chest, throwing him away from her. His hand came free of her hair (though her head was yanked violently forward in the process) and the front third of his trapped foot came free from his body, tearing away as he was hurled back. He screamed again, even louder this time, as the hunk of bone and meat turned to dust beneath her boot. He hit the van again, headfirst, and it rocked from the force of the impact. Even so, he stayed on his feet, and stumbled right back at her, too quickly for her to cast a spell.

Just as she'd expected he would... and so she cast a spell.

Just not the same spell.

_--Fsshtnnk--_

One hand making a quick gesture, accompanied by an instant of total concentration, and the vampire stopped dead in his tracks, looking confused. The emerald flash that had for a split second engulfed his head had come and gone so fast that it was easy to miss; if he'd blinked at the wrong moment he might have missed it.

So she showed it to him again.

_--Fsshtnnk--_

The gesture and the flash came simultaneously, and his head rocked backwards. He definitely looked confused now, and it was his turn for a nosebleed.

"The problem," she told him, while taking a cautious step back, "is that right now I don't even know how much I know. That spell I was using earlier tonight is my basic attack; like a punch is for you."

Gesture.

Flash.

_--Fsshtnnk--_

"That doesn't mean it's the only attack spell I know, and I remember some other ones now. This one, for example."

_--Fsshtnnk--_

She gave him a wicked grin.

"Pretty fast, isn't it?"

He howled, pure rage distorting his already monstrous face, and then charged.

_--Fsshtnnk--_

_--Fsshtnnk--_

_--Fsshtnnk----Fsshtnnk----Fsshtnnk----Fsshtnnk----Fsshtnnk--_

Harmony had to backpedal fast, (which was no easy feat in her boots) her fingers flying as she kept her focus as sharp and clear as diamond. The vampire made it to within ten feet of her, then, his steps faltering, to within five. His fingers almost brushed her as she kept backing up, casting without pause.

_--Fsshtnnk----Fsshtnnk----Fsshtnnk--_

He stumbled, swayed uncertainly, and then staggered back a step.

_--Fsshtnnk--_

--Fsshtnnk--

--Fsshtnnk--

With careful, precise deliberation, Harmony kept hitting him.

The spell she was using didn't hit like a wrecking ball. It didn't even hit like mid-sized Toyota. It only hit like a very big man, swinging a very heavy bat... very, very hard.

Over and over.

_--Fsshtnnk--_

The vampire, his face now a puffy, bloody mess, finally fell back against his battered van. Harmony ceased her spellcasting, though she elected to stay where she was, well out of reach.

"Well, that felt fairly empowering," she told the semi-conscious creature. "And now it's time for the big finish. Watch closely."

With both her hands weaving through intricate patterns, she threw the full force of her mind into actualizing one of her most powerful attack spells. It took long seconds to complete, enough time for her foe to drag himself up and regain his feet. It didn't matter; long before he could think about coming at her again, she finished the final flourish, performed the last exercise of will, and thrust her hands out at him.

Both of them watched as a feeble, nearly invisible wisp of green flickered across the distance between them, dying out a few inches short of where he stood. Harmony frowned, studying her hands in consternation.

"Okay, _that_ wasn't supposed to happen." She looked back up at him. "Let me try that again. Hold still." Electing to perform the spell out loud this time, just to make sure she wasn't screwing it up somehow, she began to chant.

_"By Ymir the frost king, grim and cold,_

By Surtur, lord of demon fire...."

The vampire gaped at her for a second or two, and then turned and ran as if hell itself were chasing him.

Which was pretty much about to be the case, assuming she didn't mess it up this time.

_"I call upon the power you hold,_

To slay he who hath roused my ire."

Her voice really did sound amazing now. She wondered what it would sound like if she tried to sing. Not that she allowed those musings to interfere with what she was doing; it wasn't easy to send a call across dimensions, after all.

_"Of all who live I am most fair,_

And in times past have aided thee.

Destroy now this fool who would dare

To raise his angry hand 'gainst me!"

She finished, ending with a grand gesture that should have sent a wave of frost and fire crashing across the ground to destroy everything in its path, out to several hundred yards. The fleeing vampire hadn't gotten anything like that far away, which should have meant he was toast, both charred and freeze-dried.

It didn't. The spell fizzled again, accomplishing exactly nothing. Harmony had a powerful urge to scream and stamp her foot angrily... or at least whine loudly about how unfair it all was. She did neither. The bad guy had gotten away, but at least she was alive, and basically unhurt. At least, she thought she was basically unhurt.

She hastily stepped to the van, found a section of its side that wasn't dented in, and scratched a short line of runes across it with the tip of one nail. Immediately the surface seemed to ripple and flow, the run with silver, and a moment later it had become a mirror. She checked her reflection anxiously, nearly shrieking in dismay at the faint bruising under her eyes, and the tiny trail of blood under her slightly swollen nose.

A frown crossed her barely-marked face, and she forced herself to take a mental step back.

_Whoa there, hold on, just what the heck is_ that _all about? I just got pounded on by a super strong monster, a freaking Vampire! I beat him, all by myself, and now I'm going to have a breakdown because he almost sorta-kinda gave me a black eye and a bloody nose? I don't think so!_

She stood there for a minute, resisting the powerful compulsion to chase the vampire down and make him pay for daring to touch her, much less damage her _face_.... A slow, shuddering breath, and then another, and the incandescent rage began to cool.

"Just chill, Harm," she told herself. "Yes, he messed you up a little. You gave it back, with interest, so just chill." Another breath, this one coming easier as her calm returned. "Okay, now I'll just fix this, and everything will be fine."

She smiled at a reflection that was by any measure still absolutely stunning, and began her casting. Minor healing spells quickly stopped the slow drip of blood from her nose, and the bruising and swelling vanished swiftly as well. Her hair seemed to be as tough as the rest of her, having endured the rough treatment without damage, though she couldn't help running her fingers through it over and over again, stroking the silken-soft tresses lovingly as she cast a restorative spell that would repair any harm the golden strands had suffered.

_God, Amora really is worse than Cordy ever was,_ she thought ruefully when her appearance was once again perfect. _Maybe if I had learned... I mean, maybe if_ she _had learned more stuff that worked in a fight, and a few less 'fix my dress' and 'unsmear my lipstick' and 'heal that single split-end I just found in my hair' spells, then I wouldn't have gotten beat up in the first place!_

She huffed once in mild exasperation, then cocked her head to study her reflection again.

_I have to admit, though, she is one seriously hot babe... and now I am, too. I wonder if all that stuff about her being the most beautiful woman in the universe is true? She sure thinks it is, that's for sure._

A dull, throbbing ache had been building behind her eyes for the last several minutes, unnoticed until now. She winced, pinched the bridge of her nose, and nearly put the sharp tips of her long nails through a cornea for her trouble.

"Lots to get used to, here." She dispelled the mirror magic, then leaned inside the van for a moment, briefly considering driving it home. The inside stank, however, of blood and various other unsavory things. With a last look around to make sure the vampire hadn't decided to come back for more, she turned and started off walking once more.

* * * * *

Ten minutes later and her feet were still doing fine. Her head, on the other hand, was killing her. She knew why, too, now that she'd had time to think about it.

There were three different kinds of energy she used in her spells. The first was Personal energy, which came entirely from inside her; her own 'life force', if you wanted to look at it that way. That kind was quick and easy to use, because it was a part of her, though it was also the most limited. The second kind was Universal energy; literally the energy of the universe all around her. That kind was a little more difficult to work with, because it existed at a remove from her, though it was very powerful.

Most of her spells used Universal energy. They took some time to cast, and a lot of concentration to use, and produced spectacular effects. When Harmony had seen that her usual attack spell was just too slow to use while a vampire was trying to rearrange her face, she'd latched on to the much quicker 'baseball bat' spell as an alternative. It used Personal energy, which let her cast it nearly as fast as someone could throw a punch, and weak though it was it still served well enough to deal with a single lesser demon.

The problem was, even though it was weak, relatively speaking, it was still drawing directly on her own living energy. A 'normal' spellcaster might have been able to cast it once or twice in quick succession without suffering any effects worse than she was feeling now. Casting it four or five times, however, would have put any human being into a coma. If they managed to cast it seven or eight times before they collapsed, they would likely end up dead.

Harmony had performed more than seven or eight castings... which kind of put the 'headache' thing into perspective.

_I could have killed myself. Seriously._ She looked around, noticing that she'd left the business and factory districts behind her now, and was finally entering the suburbs. She was most of the way home, now, and glad of it. Even leaving the headache aside, she was very, very tired. _Tired, but not dead, so I suppose that's some fairly clear proof that this isn't just a cosmetic change I've gone through. A human being wouldn't have survived that much spellcasting, certainly not with just a migraine. I must really have been turned into an Asgardian woman, in addition to having the memories of one._

That would have all sorts of ramifications, of course... and she had to take a moment, even with her head splitting, to grin at the novelty of knowing words like 'ramification'.

_I have vocabulary!_ she exulted. _See? Like that! I can use words like 'exulted' now! Hurray!_

Shaking her head (gingerly) at her own silliness, she walked on.

_For right now, though, what I really need to figure out is why that last attack spell didn't work. That one should have killed the vampire a few times over, and sent the van cartwheeling off down the street for good measure. Instead I got nothing._ Her pounding head made it difficult to concentrate, and she had to force herself to think it through. _That one is a Dimensional spell; it calls on beings and energies from another plane to do the heavy lifting, which is what lets me cast really mega-powerful effects. I know I did the casting properly, so it stands to reason that the problem is somewhere--_

"--ould you please help me? Miss? Hello?"

Harmony glanced up, and saw that the person speaking was an older woman, standing uncertainly by the open door of her car. The vehicle looked to have veered off the street, and was now slightly nose-down in a grassy ditch. Other than being stuck there it didn't seem to be damaged, and the old lady seemed no worse for the experience. Turning her attention back to the sidewalk, Harmony kept walking, and returned to her musings.

_Like I was saying, Dimensional spells are the most powerful, and the most difficult to cast. A lot of Amora's best stuff is Dimensional; so if there's something wrong there then I need to figure it out and then fix it. If it isn't me screwing something up, then it stands to reason that--_

"Hello, Miss? Miss!"

Her head snapped around, long gold hair flying.

"_What?_" Seeing the old woman flinch back at her angry tone, she stopped walking, carefully pinched the bridge of her nose again, and tried to smile past the headache. "I'm sorry, ma'am," she said, more gently. "I'm not feeling well. What did you need?"

Peering at her uncertainly, the woman cleared her throat in an offended, somewhat fussy sort of way.

"Well! I hate to _bother_ you, but I was hoping I might borrow your cell phone?"

Harmony regarded her with impatience.

"Sure thing, lady. I've got my phone right here in my pocket... of which I have none." Her graceful gesture trailed along the snug corset, extremely short skirt, and skintight gloves and boots. "Oh, wait a second," she told the woman brightly. "It's here in my purse... which I also don't have."

The woman shifted uncomfortably under her glare, muttering to herself.

"Pardon _me_, miss smarty-pants! Serves me right for expecting any help from a young person, not in this day and age." She scowled at Harmony, then got back into her car, leaving the door open as she folded her arms across her middle and glared at the steering wheel. "First I get run off the road by those little Halloween hoodlums, them in their sinful devil outfits and such. Then I sit for hours, waiting for someone to come along and help me, and all I get for my trouble is a selfish little brat of a girl dressed up like some kind of, of... of _hussy!_"

Harmony regarded the old woman, looked longingly along the road towards her own subdivision, and then back.

"All right," she said, surrendering with ill grace. "Here, hold on a second and I'll help you." The woman looked up hopefully.

"You'll go find a phone and call the auto club?"

The goddess shook her head (still hurting!) and stepped up to examine the front of the car.

"No, not the auto club. Let me just see what we have, here...."

The ditch was shallow, and the bottom was grassy, not muddy, so she stepped carefully down to take a look. Crouching down to peer underneath the car showed her that the vehicle was resting on the frame, with both front wheels suspended a few inches off the ground. Straightening up, she combed her fingers through her hair, removing a few loose blades of grass it had picked up when pooled on the ground. Despite herself she grimaced in distaste; every moment that passed without the casting of a spell to brush it clean was going to seem like an eternity.

_I now have some serious issues; I really, really do. There's still the hotness, though. Remember the hotness... and magic. Not such a bad trade, is it?_

She considered the car's situation, wondering if she could conjure an elemental to fill in the ditch and get the vehicle back on the road. Or possibly just a telekinesis spell, to raise it into the air and set it back in the proper lane. Her head was still pounding, she wasn't getting any closer to home doing this, and then the old lady had the nerve to beep the horn at her.

"Hello? I thought you were going to go get help!"

Harmony gritted her teeth, glaring at the woman through the windshield. With her headache redoubled in intensity now, she forgot all about magical solutions. Bending at the knees, she dropped down and reached under the front bumper. It was icky under there; she could feel dirt and grease and grime smearing across her hands. Ignoring it, she found something that felt secure, clamped her fingers around it, and stood back up. The front end of the car lifted, first just a couple of feet, then higher as she raised her hands up to waist level so that the wheels cleared the rim of the ditch. Pushing forward, stepping carefully as her feet sank several inches into the grassy slope, she maneuvered the car backwards.

It wasn't incredibly difficult, though it wasn't easy, either. In her old body, Harmony might have worked about as hard while lifting an economy-sized bag of dog food. Now, tonight, it was a '98 Acura sedan... which would have impressed her a little if she hadn't been so angry. Step by step she walked it back, trying to ignore the face of the woman behind the windshield, her mouth frozen in a 'O' of surprise. Once it was well clear of the ditch she let go, dropping the front end of the car instead of lowering it to the ground. It bounced up and down a couple of times before stopping, and Harmony eyed her hands in disgust as she walked towards the driver's side door.

"There you go, ma'am. Now, can you please do me a favor too and give me a ride back to my--"

She didn't get to finish. The woman started the car, dropped it into gear, and pulled away in a rush, spraying a few bits of roadside gravel up at the Enchantress along the way. Harmony couldn't believe it for a long moment, which was the only reason why the 'Baseball bat' spell she belatedly cast only shattered the vehicle's rear glass... instead of the old woman's head.

"Ugly old _hag_!" she shouted, glaring at the swiftly receding tail lights. The pain in her head, which had been starting to fade a bit, returned full-force, thanks to her hasty spell. Even so, she knew she wasn't going to be able to stand leaving the black grime all over her hands, especially under her nails. And then there was her hair, which doubtless still had bits of grass in it from earlier. There might even be _bugs--_!

She started walking again, more slowly now, and she tried to cast the spells as carefully as she could, to minimize the aftereffects on her poor, tired head.

* * * * *

"Hey there, need a ride?"

Harmony looked up, and groaned at what she saw.

Yet another loser, in yet another van. This one was younger-looking than the vampire, and she didn't see any dark energies shining from his aura, but she wasn't really in the mood to take chances.

"No. Go away."

The small, red-haired guy gave her a puzzled frown, easing the van forward in a crawl to keep pace with her weary steps.

"Something wrong?" he asked, as if he had every right to know. She considered putting her fist through the door panel, and then pulling him back out through the hole. That seemed like too much work, given how tired she was, so she growled an answer back at him instead.

"It's just that, for some reason, getting from point A to point B is turning out to be a long, involved process for me tonight. Now leave me alone." She was very nearly home; just two more streets and there she would be, at her own house, in her own bed. The guy in the van didn't say anything for a moment, content to stare at her in a fairly creepy way that started her temper rising once more.

"Okay then, I'll leave you alone." She nodded, relieved, and forced the irritation down.... "One thing, though," he added, speeding up a little to get ahead of her, and then slowing down again while regarding her outfit from the front. "I saw a girl earlier, dressed sort of like you. Kind of... revealing, and strange-looking? I was wondering if you know who she is. She's got red hair, a little taller than me, with--"

"Leave me alone I just want to _sleep_!"

She was exhausted, and distracted by her headache, so her control wasn't exactly at a hundred percent. This was proven when the guy's head instantly dropped forward against the steering wheel, soft snores issuing from his slack mouth. She watched as the van continued forward at that same slow crawl, slowly veering left until it crossed the street, entered a yard, and came to rest in a lovely bed of roses. Harmony groaned, pushing one fist against her forehead. That had been another Personal energy spell; the headache ratcheted up another notch. At this rate her brain would leak out of her ears before sunup. Which was only a few hours away now.

Ignoring the idling van and the snores from within, she kept on walking. A few minutes later she finally spotted her house.

* * * * *

She got all the way to the door before she remembered she didn't have her keys. There was a spare set hidden under a nearby rock... which weren't there, because she'd taken them the week before, when she lost her other set of keys. Staring at the back door, she tried to decide what to do.

(It was the back door because the front door of the house opened into the foyer, which opened into the living room. That was her mother's personal domain, and no one else was allowed entry there except when there was company.)

So, the back door... which had a very good lock. Harmony spent several long minutes wearily searching through Amora's magical repertoire, searching for the 'open locks' spell... only to snort in disgust when she found that there wasn't any such spell to be found. The Enchantress had never had any need to magically pick a lock. Any door she wanted opened was opened to her willingly; that was the whole point of being The Enchantress.

"So basically," she told back porch aloud, "I can tear a hole in this wall with my bare hands, or level the whole stupid house with a few spells, but I can't magick one stupid lock? Argh!"

Simply snapping the handle wasn't an option either; the house had a very good burglar alarm, and it would definitely notice something like that. Besides which, her mother would freak when she found it... the same reason she couldn't just knock and have someone open it up for her. This was way, way past her midnight curfew, and although she was usually able to slip in unnoticed at any hour of the night, pounding on the door would blow any attempt at stealth.

Sitting on the steps, her trailing hair carefully draped over one arm and cradled against her stomach, she tried to sort through her magical options.

_I could 'shape' a hole through the wall easily enough... except that would also tear apart any pipes or wiring in there, and I don't know where any of that is... or how to fix what I break. All right then, how about shrinking myself small enough to get down a chimney, or even walk underneath the door? _A moment's consideration showed her far too many things that could go wrong with that scenario, starting with being eaten by spiders. Her pounding head was a relentless, constant misery, and when the next thought came she latched onto it quickly.

_Teleportation!_ She leapt to her feet, overbalanced, and nearly fell backwards off the steps.

She really was extremely tired.

_I'll teleport in, straight into my bedroom!_ All she needed was a clear image of the destination, and obviously there weren't too many places more familiar to her than her own room. Without hesitation she gathered herself, forced her aching mind to focus on the spell, and on her room. Just there, at the foot of her bed, next to the dresser with the dozens of tiny unicorn figurines arranged so carefully....

A blaze of emerald light marked her departure, though she wasn't there to see it. Another flare erupted as she arrived an instant later... only to fall to her knees, struggling to keep from vomiting all over her carpet. Her little calico cat, Josie, had been sleeping on her bed as usual. At Harmony's sudden appearance, Josie leapt up squalling and vanished through the open door into her bathroom. As for herself, she didn't even try to make it that far. The waste basket was as far as she got before anything happened, though luckily it turned out to be only a few dry heaves--she hadn't had anything to eat or drink all night long... which turned out to be a good thing.

When the sudden nausea had eased a bit, she sat up and wiped her lips with a discarded skirt that had been lying by her bed.

"What in Odin's name was _that?_" She blinked when she realized what she'd said, then dismissed it. The phrasing wasn't important, it was the stomach-wrenching trip that had nearly made her barf... that would have, if she'd had anything to bring up. Short as the teleport had been, she'd still had time to feel a sort of turbulence; a massive disruption of the energies that should have carried her easily and instantly along the edges of the dimensional boundary.... She nodded slowly as she pulled herself up onto the bed. Even when she was dead tired, her mind insisted on following the puzzling threads to their conclusion.

"The anomaly; a dimensional fracture, bleeding energy into this universe." Whatever it was that seethed and pulsed beneath the town, it must disrupt certain types of mystical energy. Although she couldn't see how it might have affected her earlier spell against the vampire, it was obviously what had interfered with her teleport. It would doubtless grow quickly worse as the range of the jump increased too, at least within the anomaly's zone of influence. Inconvenient, that, given how Amora was used to blipping anywhere on earth at a moment's notice.

"Enough," she groaned at herself, falling back into the softness of her bed with a sigh. "Worry about that tomorrow. Sleep now."

She was too tired to undress. Removing her boots seemed almost worthwhile, until she tried to muster the strength to actually do it, and then she realized that she simply didn't care. They were comfortable boots, and the rest of her outfit was comfy too, so everything could just stay as it was until morning....

_Wait._ Her eyes snapped open as a truly horrifying thought occurred to her. What if she only retained her new appearance and abilities while she wore the costume? What if she took off the corset and boots and the rest, only to find herself once more as poor, helpless, stupid Harmony?

Several minutes of furious thought passed, while she stared at the darkened ceiling overhead, her mind busy considering the various mystical possibilities.

_No_, she decided finally, not without a small sigh of relief. _No, it can't work that way. The costumes were tagged, marked so that Ethan's spell could find them, and transform the wearer. After that, though, it was the spell that maintained the effect, and when it ended the transformations reversed themselves. All except mine... for whatever reason._ She smiled, and snuggled herself down a little further into the marvelous softness.

_Good thing, too. Tomorrow at school is going to be interesting enough, without me trying to pass this outfit off as the latest in cheerleading uniforms._

By the time Josie the cat had gathered sufficient courage to poke her head back into the bedroom, the goddess was fast asleep.

* * * * *


	3. Not exactly her usual morning routine

Author's Note: The deafening lack of reviewage for this one is making Harmony cry. *Waaaaaaaaaaaaah!!!*

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Chapter Three

_The Goddess slept, and with sleep came dreams...._

An asteroid-like mass of mountains, suspended like an impossible jewel among the stars. Warm, sunlit valleys lay beneath the mighty peaks, ancient forests cloaked the mountain slopes, and glaciers brooded from their cold, high places. Rushing rivers thundered through gorges, meandered past verdant meadows, dove into mazes of fantastic, glittering caverns... and then spilled forth into the starlit void, to become the clouds which would return as rain to begin the cycle once more.

It was a place where things such as gravity and atmosphere paid little, if any, attention to the rules of so-called science. They existed simply because the inhabitants desired that they exist. And those inhabitants, proud, powerful, immortal beings, dwelt here and there upon their impossible world as they would, but at the center of it all there was Asgard, the city of the Gods. Many were the figures of legend who lived and fought there; Thor, the thunderer, mightiest in battle. Balder the brave, known by all as being both gentle and fierce. Loki, the trickster, ever plotting and scheming. And above all, Odin, their king. Thousands of other gods there were also, some lesser and some greater.

Among them, however, there was one who exceeded all others in beauty. Power and pleasure were her favored pursuits, sorcery and sexuality her tools. Few there were who could even attempt to resist the wiles of this Enchantress, and if she didst truly desire to claim a lover or a treasure then soon or late that person or thing inevitably became her possession.

Even Thor himself, who long resisted her enticements, and condemned her games and manipulations, did eventually come to her bed, and surrender his heart into her keeping... as had so many others before him.

She awoke to confusion, unsure of where she might be. The bed beneath her was lumpy and uncomfortable; a shoddy arrangement of springs and thin padding such as the mortals often used. It was small, too; her out flung arm hung over the edge, as did her feet... and why had she slept fully clothed? Opening her eyes she saw the ceiling was far too close, the walls claustrophobically near. This... this _cell_ was hardly a fit place for a Goddess to....

Harmony shut her eyes, yawned, and made an annoyed sound before opening them again. When she looked again it was the same room, just with her own memories at the front of her mind now, not Amora's. It still looked kind of small, though she smiled at the posters of kittens and unicorns that decorated the walls.

"It might not be ancient, priceless art, like you had in _your_ place," she told the memories of the goddess, "But I happen to like them, and my dingy little room, too; so there." She stuck her tongue out at nothing in particular, then wriggled back and forth a little, trying to find a more comfortable position. Considering the results, she had to wonder if maybe the goddess might have a small point. Certainly the vast, beautifully-crafted bed Amora remembered from her palace had been a wonderfully luxurious thing in which to awake. Then again, the servants who had patiently waited for their mistress to open her eyes, with a glass of chilled wine and a plate of sugary delicacies ready and waiting, might have something to do with those memories seeming so appealing. Not to mention the exhausted lover, or two, or three, whose unconscious forms would be keeping her warm in that bed....

Harmony pulled herself out of those memories with difficulty (and a certain amount of reluctance). Turning her head to look at the clock on the dresser, she saw that she had awakened the usual five minutes before the alarm went off.

_Hm. Good to know that not everything is different, that I'm still me, in here, even with all the added extras._

Turning her head a little further to glance at the curtained window caused a slight tugging at her scalp, and she turned back the other way to see what it was.

Josie, her little cat, was sitting in the exact center of the golden hair that lay fanned out across the sheets and over the edge of the bed. Looking indecently comfortable, the cat regarded Harmony with slitted eyes, her paws busy kneading the warm, silken mass beneath her as she purred with contentment.

"Well, good morning!" the girl said, giggling at the sight. "You like the changes? Do you recognize me now?" She carefully extended one hand. Josie stopped her purring and kneading, cautiously stretched her head forward, and sniffed at the offered fingers. After a few moments of consideration she gently butted her head against Harmony's hand, and resumed her purring. The girl smiled, rubbing the velvety ears and scratching lightly under the furry chin. As with a lot of other tasks, the length of her new nails complicated things a bit, and she wondered if she should trim them down.

"Something else to decide later," she told herself, raising herself to a sitting position as she carefully extracted Josie from her hair. The cat wasn't pleased by the move; her paws shifted from kneading to clenching, and it took Harmony a full minute to extract the golden strands from the feline's grip. "This makes things harder too," she mused, pulling the shimmering mass out of the way so that she could swing her booted feet around and onto the floor. The ends of the silken locks brushed the carpet, and she reflected on what she knew from personal experience: waist-length hair was one thing, but anything longer was far more difficult to deal with. Washing it, brushing it, trying to keep it from getting caught in every slamming door in the world; normal swinging ones, car doors, elevator doors....

"Maybe I _should_ get this chopped off, first chance I get." Her fingers trailed though it, and she watched bemusedly as the sleep-induced snarls simply fell away, the tangles unwinding and slithering undone at the slightest prompting. Josie hopped down to the floor, prowled over, and started batting at the hair with one paw. When she began winding her way back and forth through gleaming curtain, her purring at maximum volume, Harmony laughed aloud.

"Okay, okay; you're right. That's total crazy-talk, isn't it?" Another glance at the clock was just in time to see the numbers click over and the alarm began to buzz quietly. Standing up, she made her way to the dresser (moving much more easily in the high boots now than she had last night) and poked down on the button that killed the alarm.

'Killed' being the operative word, as her nail and half the length of her finger punched straight through the button and deep into the electronic innards of the device. There was a brief spark, and the nightlight beside the bed flickered as she felt a jolt run up her arm.

"Yeek!"

Her little yip wasn't too loud, but she cringed anyway, shooting a worried glance at the door to her room. Her mother's bedroom was at the far end of the hall, and the woman usually slept deeply enough. Still, when someone _was_ unlucky enough to wake her, the results were... unpleasant.

Harmony looked down at the alarm clock, noting that the digital display on the front had died, and that there was now a faint smell of ozone in the room. She considered her index finger. It was unmarked; the jolt had been more startling than painful. Flexing the finger a few times, she imagined little cartoony muscles bulging there as it bent and straightened.

"Look out, world, for I am mighty!" A rueful glance at the dead clock made her shake her head. "'Mighty clumsy' that is, darn it! I've gotta be more careful."

She started peeling off the green gloves that stretched from wrist to upper arm, even as she considered the boots she wore. Those had materialized in place of the faux-boots she'd worn at the start of Halloween, as a side-effect of her transformation. She had never actually put them on, and so wasn't quite sure how they came off. The deep green, slippery-soft leather fit very snugly all the way from toes to lower thigh, and it seemed to be perfectly seamless, but there _had_ to be a zipper or something hidden there somewhere....

* * * * *

Harmony made it downstairs only a few minutes behind her usual morning schedule, despite having run into a few... problems. As she made her way to the kitchen, she reflected on the minor adventures that had befallen her in the course of getting ready

_Who uses magic on all their clothes, instead of buttons and zippers? I mean, seriously; who?_

It had proven necessary to cast spells to rid herself of the boots; a simple cantrip she finally remembered had split the leather neatly along the line drawn by her fingernail, allowing her to slip her feet free. Another spell was designed to close them up again, and apparently Asgardian women--or at least _this_ Asgardian woman!--preferred that method to crude, ugly fasteners. Her corset, the one so kindly sold to her by Ethan, had also been slightly transformed, though she had not noticed until she tried to take it off. The laces were gone; now there was only smooth, wonderfully soft leather, all the way around, hugging her tight with that completely comfortable snugness. Fortunately the same spells had worked there also, and so she'd stripped bare and headed into the bathroom.

Where, understandably enough, she'd been delayed a little more by what she found in the mirror. She'd been right about retaining her new form even without the Halloween costume. The figure before her was far, far removed from what she remembered of herself from yesterday morning. Other than the hair, it was the enhanced bust that was the most immediately eye-catching change; her breasts had gone up at least three or four cup sizes, easily, though without the slightest trace of the sag their increased weight should have caused. Her waist was considerably narrower than before, and her tummy taut and flat, showing that the corseted outfit was more a style choice than anything this woman actually needed. Her hips were sweetly curved, and, when she turned in place to look in the mirror over one shoulder, she saw that her backside was firm, and full... and sort of lusciously heart-shaped.

Her face, when she leaned close to the glass to examine it, was nearly unrecognizable as hers. It was still that of a teenage girl, true, but there was only the faintest likeness, the most distant resemblance to what had been _her_ face. Now it was almost entirely Amora's, as she had been when she was young, and only just coming into the mature phase of an Asgardian's lifetime, which could last for a very, very long time indeed. Her old face had been pleasant enough, in most respects. The new one was far better, with features that were more delicate, more refined, and with an intangible something that made her look both exotic and almost unspeakably enticing. Her eyes were larger... and a brilliant green, instead of the usual vacant blue.

She was also taller, which was forcefully brought to her attention when she bumped her head trying to get into the shower. The rippled glass doors were usually plenty high enough for her, but this time the top of her skull connected painfully with the upper edge of the opening. Wincing, she stepped back and eyed herself up and down, then tried to estimate how much higher her eye line was now, compared to yesterday. Without a tape measure she couldn't be sure, though it had to be at least five or six inches. A worried glance at the mirror showed her that no, she hadn't been transformed into a hulking looming goon-girl. The person in the reflection was slender and gracefully formed; almost delicate, though with ripe curves in all the right places.

And so she'd gotten into the shower (ducking carefully this time), turned on the water... and then she'd received the _real _surprise....

Standing in the downstairs hallway and recalling the experience, Harmony found herself flushing deeply. Or maybe it was the still the same flush she'd gotten earlier, when the hot spray had first hit her skin, and she'd discovered just exactly how sensitive her new body truly was.

Harmony's hands rose instinctively, obeying (Amora's!) long-ingrained habit, and she only just snatched them back down in time. Taking a deep breath, she resolutely refused to touch herself. Her breasts were still tingling from the shower, and she didn't dare risk any additional stimulation. Not when a full twenty minutes had passed with her completely lost in the exquisite sensations the water spray had induced in her body... aided by the (new!) expert attentions of her own skilled hands.

She looked around the hallway outside the kitchen, found the little mirror hanging there, and checked her face. The flush of her pale skin looked more like embarrassment than sexual arousal, she decided, which meant it was probably all right to be seen. When she had finally gotten out of the shower she had gotten dressed, and then attempted a Masking spell. An illusionary disguise, it shifted her appearance back to that of plain old Harmony Kendall... mostly. Even though she knew it would be foolish to draw attention to the changes that had taken place, she simply hadn't been able to stand the thought of putting her hair back to the dry, dingy yellow it had been previously. The length of those deep gold tresses had to appear shorter than the new reality of course... only she couldn't help leaving them looking just a _few_ inches longer than before... and so it went. Eventually her disguise was a compromise between what she had been and what she now was; still recognizably Harmony, but a somewhat prettier, slimmer, bustier Harmony... who also happened to be having an incredibly good hair day.

Smiling at her reflection, the girl nodded determinedly.

_Daddy is in there eating breakfast and reading his paper, so I'll test this out on him. If he doesn't notice anything weird, then nobody at school should either... I hope._ She turned her head from side to side, making sure there were no flaws in the magical image that overlay her actual features... and caught her breath suddenly as delicious pleasure washed gently through every inch of her, though it was especially concentrated in....

She snatched her hands away from her breasts, to which the offending appendages had crept without her noticing.

_"Stop that!"_ she hissed angrily at herself.

Really, didn't her new body ever get _enough_? Bad enough that she'd had to finish her shower without ever turning around to face the spray, lest she stand there, blissed out, until noon. No wonder she remembered the Enchantress taking baths exclusively; otherwise the woman never would have gotten anything done!

No sooner had she completed the thought than memories began appearing before her mind's eye, of a seemingly endless series and variety of romantic encounters that had taken place in roman baths, raging thunderstorms, forest pools, Hollywood hot tubs, wild ocean surf, secluded waterfalls, ornate fountains, hot springs, swimming pools (one of which had come equipped with a well-known grotto), aqueducts, an icy stream at the foot of a towering glacier....

"Yikes!" Harmony exclaimed softly, a bit intimidated in spite of herself. Even so, the memories, at the same time hers and not-hers, roused a fresh heat deep inside her that quickly threatened to grow and grow until--

Desperately keeping her hands clenched into fists and well away from any part of her body, the girl all but ran into the kitchen.

* * * * *

"Good morning, Daddy!"

Aaron Kendall glanced up from the engineering reports he was reading and nodded briefly at his daughter before returning his attention to the pages of diagrams and numbers.

"'Morning, Harmony." From the corner of his eye he saw her moving about, getting her breakfast and pouring a glass of juice. As usual, he didn't make small talk with her; aside from occasional situations like this, where they happened to occupy the same room for a few minutes at a time, he actually had little contact with the girl at all. It wasn't that he actively disliked her, it was simply that....

Aaron dismissed those thoughts, making a series of careful notes on the report, signing his name at the bottom, and then flipping to the next page. His construction firm remained prosperous, despite the shrinking number of new building contracts coming into Sunnydale. He had yet to discover what exactly was turning away the largest investors, but something was definitely cooling their enthusiasm for long-term investments in the town. Aaron had weathered that trend by turning the focus of his company to smaller, but more numerous projects, as well as a few larger ones outside of the immediate area. The latter were causing a few logistical problems, as keeping things organized at longer distances posed a considerable challenge. Even so, the bottom line for this quarter was looking quite respectable, especially if the permits for the new parking garage over in Meridian came through in a reasonably timely--

"Daddy?"

He blinked, his train of thought lost, and forced himself not to show his irritation as he looked up.

"Yes, Harmony?"

She winced a little, picking up on his mood despite his mild tone. With her usual brittle, apologetic smile she pointed to the neatly folded morning paper at his elbow.

"I was just wondering... was there anything in the paper about stuff happening around town last night? I mean, like... weird Halloween stuff?"

Frowning at her in puzzlement, he picked up the paper and showed her the banner on the front page. _The New York Times_ did not, in fact, have any mention of Halloween troubles in Sunnydale. Harmony's face fell, and she nodded as she took her seat across from him at the table.

"Oh, right. Sorry."

Despite himself, Aaron felt a faint stirring of curiosity.

"Why?" he asked her. "What kind of 'weird stuff' happened?"

She didn't answer immediately, instead taking a long drink of her juice. When she set it back down she still avoided meeting his eyes.

"Um, there were a lot of people running around, and... acting strange, is all. Like, getting really into their costumes, and pretending to be werewolves and vampires and robots and stuff. I think some of them got hurt pretty bad before it was all over."

He snorted, turning his attention back to the sheaf of papers before him.

"If _that's_ all it was...." He stopped, glancing up at her from beneath lowered brows. "You didn't happen to be one of these people running around, were you? I thought you and your friends were going to a party."

Harmony nodded quickly.

"Yep, we did, and no, I wasn't going crazy. I... actually won a prize because of my costume, sort of."

Reassured, the vague, almost-concern swiftly fading, Aaron went back to his work.

"That's good." Another scan of the figures and notes from his crew foreman, and he scribbled his signature again. "What was the prize?" he asked absently, as he set his Palm Pilot next to the page and began to enter some numbers. "Something nice?"

She giggled at that, the sound holding a somewhat richer note than he'd ever heard from her before.

"Yes," she told him. "It's pretty nice."

He nodded without looking up, pleased for her in a distant way. A minute passed as he looked up some relevant phone numbers; the site inspector was going to need another set of core samples from the latest concrete pour, and the equipment to do that had better be on hand or else... or else their whole schedule would be....

Aaron stopped, and glanced up at his daughter. She wasn't looking at him, she was riffling through her book bag while waiting for her ride to school. He watched her for a moment, tried to go back to checking his notes... and then looked up at her again.

Odd. Even though she wasn't doing anything disruptive, he was having trouble tuning her out. Ordinarily his focus was better than that, but something about the girl was different this morning. She seemed more... _here_ than was usually the case. There was a presence about her, even when she was sitting quietly, that somehow made it impossible to forget she was there, even for a moment.

Feeling an unusual urge to say something in order to fill the silence, he cleared his throat uncertainly.

"You're sure nothing bad happened to you last night?" There was certainly _something_ different, though he still couldn't pin down what it was. She looked up, and those clear, guileless eyes hit him with an almost physical impact.

"No, I got through it fine," she assured him. "I mean, there was a thing where a guy got a little grabby with me, and then later this loser in a van tried to give me a ride home... there were two losers, actually, in two vans...." She frowned, idly winding some of her long hair around and around her fingers as she stared down at the remains of her bran muffin and juice.

Aaron was surprised to find that the elusive bit of parental concern rushing back to make yet another appearance.

"These 'guys'; did they hurt you? Do you know their names?" He was already reaching for his phone to make a call to the police when she shook her head firmly, and forestalled him with a raised hand.

"No. No, nothing like that, really. I handled it fine. Only...." She gave a little sigh, and moved her empty glass back and forth without seeming to notice what she was doing. "I did kind of lose my purse in the middle of it all... so that's another set of house keys gone." She gave him a pleading look. "Please, daddy, don't tell mom, okay?"

Aaron found himself in a place of complete and total understanding with his daughter, a genuine rarity. Still, if there was one thing they both could agree on, it was that neither of them wanted to give Eileen a reason to go on one of her rants.

Not that the woman ever seemed to _need_ a reason....

"Don't worry about it," he told her. "I'll take care of it." Harmony's brilliant smile of gratitude seemed to increase the light level in the kitchen by at least fifty percent, and Aaron felt a most peculiar warmth at the knowledge that he had been the one to make her happy. Granted, he would have to call the locksmith, get the door locks changed, and somehow switch his wife's keys without her knowledge... but just that one smile from his beautiful daughter was more than sufficient reward.

In fact, come to think of it, she _was_ looking quite beautiful this morning. He'd never noticed before, how lovely her hair was, or how gracefully she moved. Even her face was more attractive than he remembered, with an absolutely flawless complexion that would doubtless drive a jealous Eileen to criticize the girl even more harshly. Not that he could see much to criticize....

"So that's all?" he asked, more to distract himself from the strange turn his thoughts had taken than anything else. He wondered if he could somehow track down the boys who had bothered Harmony last night. If he found them, he would make them pay for having _dared_ try to touch his daughter!

Still beaming because of the way he had eliminated the potential confrontation with her mother, Harmony shook her head--and then looked stricken.

"Oh no; my cell phone was in there, too!" She looked almost frantic, and Aaron smiled indulgently. Of course a teenaged girl was going to panic if her primary connection to the social world was unavailable. He didn't need to be extremely close to his daughter to know _that_ was an accurate prediction.

"What about your wallet?" he asked, already certain of what the answer would be. "Your money, your credit cards?"

Her eyes widened even further, despair and guilt plainly evident on her (remarkably attractive) face.

"I didn't even think about that," she admitted. Aaron nodded wearily, as his usual feelings concerning the girl came back in force.

"I'll take care of it," he told her, making a note in his Palm Pilot to call the credit card company as soon as he got to the office. He would have to cancel the cards, and the phone, or else some random street punk would end up costing him a fortune. It was, unfortunately, all too typical of his daughter to not realize the seriousness of such things unless prompted.

"I'm sorry, daddy," she told him in a small voice. "I know I should have told you, only it's just that so much has been going on, I didn't think--"

"It's fine," he told her. Of course it wasn't really fine, it was only familiar. He hadn't wanted children at all, had known that he wouldn't make a good parent. Eileen, however, had been relentless; probably seeing a child as a way of tying her husband more tightly to her. When his daughter had been born he'd tried to be happy, had even nurtured some hope of bringing her to work for him in his newly-founded company when she was older. Perhaps, in time, she could even take over, and make it into a family business that would last for generations. And then....

Well, then Harmony had gotten old enough for her... deficiencies to become obvious. It wasn't her fault, intellectually he knew that. Even so, the bitter disappointment he felt made it much easier for him (and kinder for the girl) to simply keep his distance. Added to the steadily worsening condition of his marriage, it simply made his home a profoundly uncomfortable place for him to be. If it weren't for the comfort and understanding he received from his assistant, Tanya, and the companionship she provided when she accompanied him on his business trips, then he would probably have long since lost his mind.

He just hoped nothing happened to upset the current, fragile balance that held their family together. If it came to divorce then he knew he wouldn't end up with custody, and he shuddered to think of what would happen to his daughter, his poor, eternally child-like daughter, if her future were left entirely in his wife's hands. Not that either of them would be able to take care of Harmony forever, no matter what happened, and that knowledge worried him more than he'd realized until now.

"Here," he said abruptly, reaching into his suit pocket and pulling out his wallet. Extracting a pair of hundreds he put them on the table beside her plate. "I'll get the cards replaced, and the phone. In the meantime, this should hold you over." It was an easy solution, throwing money at a problem that way... which was not to say that it didn't work....

Harmony picked up the money, still obviously upset by her perceived failure.

"Thanks," she murmured uncomfortably. Then suddenly she set her shoulders and looked him straight in the eye.

"I'm going to be okay, you know. You don't have to worry about me."

Aaron had raised his neglected cup of coffee to his lips, and very nearly choked when her words registered. He set it back down, staring at her, and she shrugged almost apologetically.

"It's just that... I know I'm not... what you hoped for. I can see that now. But things are going to be better, I promise."

He wanted to offer her empty words of comfort, to protest vehemently that she was in no way a disappointment to him. He wanted to do those things, only her eyes, those fathomless eyes made such words seem needless, even insulting.

"What's changed?" he asked instead. "What makes you so sure things will get any better?" The intelligence in her eyes, the smoldering intensity that had replaced the familiar, vapid glassiness, abruptly changed again, to a playful twinkle.

"Let's just say... destiny took a mean left turn sometime last night." She laughed out loud, the sound rich and warm. "Maybe those wacky Norns had a few too many, at _their_ Halloween party! And you know what they say about drinking and driving? Well, that goes double for drinking and determining fate, I'll bet!" He stared at her, completely lost, and she stopped, her smile turning uncertain. "The Norns? Three _Disir_ named Urdhr, Verdhandi, and Skuld? They're the ones who shape the turnings of the _Wyrd_ through the worlds." He shook his head mutely and her lips fell into a pout. "Oh. Sorry. I thought everybody knew about them."

Aaron did sigh this time, any thoughts about the strange differences in his daughter's behavior having been erased by a dose of her usual meaningless babble.

"I have to go or I'll be late," he said, gathering up his papers and pushing his chair back. Dropping everything into his briefcase he stood--only to find Harmony standing face to face with him.

"I _will_ make you proud of me, Daddy," she told him, a measure of her earlier intensity back in her eyes. "I'm going to show them all, you'll see." She leaned in and gave him a quick peck on the cheek; familiar enough, though usually she had to stretch upwards to reach him at all, and this time it almost seemed like she was bending down a bit instead. He frowned, glancing down in automatic reflex to see if her shoes were responsible for the sudden increase in height... and somehow his gaze came to rest squarely on Harmony's chest.

_I don't remember seeing_ those _there before_, was the thought that wandered through his mind at the sight. _My little girl must be having some kind of late growth spurt...._

He felt his face heat, even as he pulled back half a step, suddenly uncomfortable with being so close to the girl. Forcing his eyes to continue their pan down, he saw that yes, Harmony was wearing high heels. High-heeled boots, in fact, in an arresting jewel-tone of green. The leather was thin and supple enough to follow every curve of her legs, and again he was startled to find himself thinking how amazingly attractive the girl had become. Everything, from her remarkably full breasts, to her trim waist, to the tantalizing bit of bare thigh that showed between the hem of her skirt and the top of those green leather boots....

Somewhere inside himself, Aaron Kendall was aghast; this was his _daughter_, not some random woman he'd just met at a club. This was not something he had ever felt towards her before, and it was not something he should be feeling now--or ever!

And yet... and _yet...._

"Whoops!" Harmony sounded startled, and he whipped his eyes away from her, filled with shame at what he'd been thinking.

"I've--" His heart was in this throat, the pulse pounding hard enough to make swallowing difficult. "I've got to go. Have a good day at school, sweetheart." He turned to go, keeping his eyes averted only with the greatest of efforts. Even when he wasn't looking directly at her, he could still see entirely too much of her. The way her hair swung and shone as she moved, the way the freshness of her young face contrasted with the very womanly curves at breast and hip....

"I've got to go," he repeated thickly, and turned toward the door. Harmony caught him by the shoulders before he could take more than a step, and stepped in front of him.

"Wait, Daddy," she told him, preventing him from looking away as she leaned in close to peer into his eyes. "I think I might have, um, well, let me see...."

"It's fine," he told her, as convincingly as he could. "I was just having a fatherly moment there, worrying about what you're wearing." The outfit _was_ a bit provocative, with her legs shown off that way. Even if the blouse was conservative enough, at least by the standards of the day. Besides, God knew the girl didn't need both of her parents berating her. Now, if she would just let go of him so that he could get to work and bury those entirely inappropriate thoughts with a few tons of paperwork... and maybe a cold shower or three, if he could find the time to stop at the gym on the way in....

Harmony was shaking her head, managing to look both worried and mortified (and damnably attractive) all at the same time.

"Nope, I can't let you go yet; I think you might be...." Staring deeply into his eyes, she seemed to finally find whatever it was she was looking for. "Oh no! You are!" She released him, and her hands fluttered up and down in distress as she regarded him with dismay. "I'm sorry! Sorry, daddy, my bad!" He had not the least idea of what she was talking about; he was the one having the inappropriate thoughts about his own flesh and blood. He was still wondering why she was so upset when his helpless little girl grabbed him again, and with impossible strength picked him up, turned him around, and deposited him back in his chair. "Bad, _very_ bad thing that happened there, totally an accident, I swear!" Aaron, not having time for this foolishness, tried to stand, and was effortlessly pinned in place by a single, delicate hand pressing against the center of his chest. He wondered, a bit dazedly, when she had started working out. A moment later she crouched before him so that their eyes were level, both of them extremely embarrassed, if for different reasons.

"Here, let me see if I can fix this." Her perfect, stunningly white teeth nibbled at her full lip, and he had to force himself not to focus on that to the exclusion of all else. "Okay," she said finally, after a few moment's thought. "The blood connection gave the magic a path, even when I wasn't trying to make you, um...." She looked away, and grimaced. "Let's just say, 'ew'." Her eyes came back to his, and her expression grew determined. "So. First, let's shield you. Should be simple enough...." She stared at him, unblinking, and the fingertips pressing into his chest almost seemed to grow warmer.

"Guard his heart 'gainst me," he heard her whisper to herself. "A father's love, never a lover's passion...." A thrumming grew and then faded behind his ribs, even as her hand rose to brush across his forehead. "Ward his thoughts 'gainst me; let him not be troubled by dreams and desires my power might otherwise wake, unbidden...." The fevered flush that had had his mind racing with those oh-so-wrong thoughts and images of his daughter abruptly cooled, leaving him, if anything, even more ashamed of himself than before. He opened his mouth to apologize, and also to ask her just what the _hell_ was going on, with all this... New Age, mystical nonsense she was suddenly spouting. Before he could speak, however, her eyes caught his, her hands weaving through a slow, graceful, mesmerizing dance that left him dazed and drifting. Her fingers moved across his field of vision, seeming to travel slower and slower through their dance, while at the same time falling further and further out of focus. He thought he heard her whispering to him, words that he could not quite decipher, no matter how intently he strained, and the whispers went on and on as he followed them down....

Aaron gave a start, looking up from the table before him to find his daughter sitting across from him, watching him hopefully.

"Are you feeling okay, daddy?"

He nodded distractedly, wondering how he'd come so close to dozing off at the table like that. Granted, there had been a lot of late nights, most of them actually spent working, and not with Tanya, but still. He stood, grabbing up his briefcase along the way.

"I have to go or I'll be late," he said, and Harmony stood up also.

"Have a good day at work," she told him brightly, moving forward to give him a quick peck on the cheek. He nodded absently, noting in passing that her outfit was a bit provocative, even given the standards of the day. The boots, especially, were a little much. He started to tell her to go and change into something else, but stopped short. The girl got enough criticism from Eileen, no sense in making her life even more difficult.

"Be careful," he told her, instead. "And if you see those boys who were bothering you last night make sure you call the police right away."

She had been watching him closely all the while, and now she gave him a smile that seemed like one of relief.

"I will. Bye!"

Aaron gave her a nod and hurried out to his car, wondering about the strange daydream he'd had earlier, over his toast and coffee. His girl, murmuring and gesturing in an odd, ritualized way, almost like she was playing at doing magic....

He snorted as he unlocked his BMW and slid behind the wheel. Obviously his busy mind had made a random association with her costume from the previous night. Even though he hadn't asked her what the green get-up was supposed to be, he assumed it was some kind of witch, possibly a younger take on Glinda or something. Pushing all of that aside, he pulled out of the drive and headed for the office.

He was halfway there when a sudden jolt went through him.

Since when were Harmony's eyes _green?_

* * * * *

Hearing the growl of her father's car receding, Harmony gave a long exhalation, the tension in her chest draining away as she did so.

"Woof! That was a sorta-kinda close call, wasn't it?" The empty kitchen didn't answer her, so she flopped gracefully down in her chair and stared across at the refrigerator as considered what had happened.

She had in no way intended to provoke lusty thoughts in her father; either her control was still iffy or the mystical channel provided by the blood connection really was all it took for some magic to find its way, unbidden, to places it was not meant to go. It was most likely a little of both, she decided.

_I'm just glad I caught it when I did,_ she thought. _If he'd spent a day or a week or whatever secretly having naughty daydreams about me it might have gotten to be too much a part of him for me to get rid of it, and then what would I have done?_

Even as it was, the memories of what had happened weren't completely gone; cutting away bits of a living mind wasn't something that could be done easily, or safely. What she'd been able to do was to blur those few minutes, make them into nothing more than hazy, half-remembered daydreams that could be shoved away and forgotten. Harmony knew she was lucky that her mind-affecting spells were working better than some of her other magicks. Those, and her illusions too, seemed more or less intact, probably because Amora had specialized in those areas. Or, perhaps it was because it was only spells that affected the physical world in significant ways that were behaving unpredictably in this, Harmony's world. Either way, she knew she would be devoting a lot of time to solving the problem; she did not intend to let most of her powers remain unusable. No, that would not do at _all._

"I'll have to go shopping too," she told herself mournfully. "And that's not going to be something that can wait."

For one thing, Amora's green boots were the only shoes she had that fit now. Not that her feet had gotten huge, not at all. Still, with her height at something like six feet now (or maybe a smidge more, she hadn't had time to track down a tape measure yet) Harmony's feet had grown a _little_. Which still left them quite dainty for someone her new size, or even her old size, for that matter... and yet they were now just the tiniest bit too big to fit any of her old shoes. The clothing situation was even worse. Not a single pair of jeans would fit; not even close. As for dresses, well, some of them would still work, after a fashion, but none of them looked quite right on her anymore; not with her new proportions.

She'd tried using magic to alter a few things; the spell that changed the shape of matter without actually altering its composition in any way still worked more or less as it should... not that it had helped much. It wasn't like the old television shows, where a witch or genie would wiggle her nose or blink and nod her head and something would happen, instantly and perfectly. If Harmony wanted a dress to reshape itself, or a pair of shoes to grow, she had to manage every part of that change consciously. Inanimate objects didn't 'know' what they were supposed to look like, not like living creatures, which always had a map within themselves of how things fit together. So now there were two outfits upstairs that were all stretched and distorted and wouldn't fit anything remotely human. A (formerly) nice pair of shoes had suffered her attentions too. It turned out that some materials didn't take well to being stretched and pulled like taffy... they tended to rip, or split, or shred into handfuls of little plastic fibers. That sort of thing didn't make for an especially comfortable shoe.

_I have no idea how I'm going to afford buying all new clothes, and shoes too. I can't ask Daddy for more money, and mother would scream my head off if I said anything._

The outfit she was wearing would work well enough for today, even though the skirt was supposed to go nearly to her knees, and today it was almost up to mid-thigh. The blouse had been roomy on her before, and now it was basically form-fitting... and none of her bras were even close to meeting the challenge of her new chest. Luckily she didn't seem to need any support, and the illusion that overlay everything helped make her look more presentable anyway.

Her stomach chose that moment to rumble fiercely, and she winced. The single bran muffin and glass of orange juice that she allowed herself while dieting (which was to say, 'always') wasn't making her new body very happy. She tilted her head, considering, even as she spread her fingers across the flat expanse of her midriff.

_Hm. I'm slim enough now; it was force of habit that had me eat the same thing as always. Maybe it won't hurt to eat a bowl of cereal or something?_

Too late; she heard the beep of a horn from the drive. Her ride had arrived, and it was time to go. She caught up her stylish pink backpack, having much less trouble managing it than she usually did. With a deep breath she headed out, hoping that there wouldn't be too many hurdles involved in getting through a typical day at school.

Of course she knew even then that there _would_ be; those pesky Norns were certain to see to that.

* * * * *


	4. Sunnydale 90210

Author's Note: This will likely sound like whining, but I really am amazed at how different the response to this story has been between Twisting the Hellmouth and here. All I can figure is that most of the folk who like the odd, crossover-type fics are reading them on TtH? Either that, or nobody here on is willing to give poor Harmony a fair chance to win their hearts, and I'd hate to believe that of you guys.

Anyways, reviews are the fuel that power the writing machine, so… well, you know.

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Chapter Four: 'Sunnydale 90210' (part one)

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Harmony opened the car door and slid into the passenger-side seat, dropping her book bag into the floor beside her feet.

"Hi," she told the driver by way of greeting, making doubly sure she had her hair pulled all the way inside before closing the door.

"Hey there," the girl behind the steering wheel replied, even as she put the car in reverse and started it back down the driveway. "I tried to call you earlier, to see if you needed a ride or not, but you never picked up." Out in the street now, she put the car in drive and headed towards the high school. "So I came by just in case; good thing, huh?"

"You have no idea. More walking is _so_ not what I need right now." Harmony gave the girl a grateful smile, then turned her attention to trying to sort out the seatbelt. The shoulder-belt arrangement was never comfortable for women with even a moderate-sized chest. This morning she was discovering how that discomfort seemed to increase exponentially for the truly well-endowed. Hoping that Rachel, the girl driving, wouldn't decide to make a fuss over it, she gave up and left the belt undone, concentrating instead on the view outside. The area immediately surrounding her house seemed to have escaped serious damage during the violence of the night before. Occasional flattened mailbox posts and a few shattered windows or vandalized cars looked to be the worst of it.

"Last night was pretty crazy; I'm glad you're okay," Rachel told her, once they'd made the turn that would shortly take them to Mercer Street. "With everything going insane like that, and then you not answering your phone this morning, I was afraid you might be in the hospital. Or worse."

She sounded genuinely concerned, which wasn't a sentiment Harmony got very often from any of the Cordettes. Of course Rachel was from an entirely different social strata, which might have had something to do with it.

"I got through it fine. There was a thing where I had to smack a couple of the crazies around a little--not a problem." Rachel made a little sound of amusement, assuming that Harmony was joking. "How about you?" She tried to remember if the other girl had gotten anything from Ethan's, and drew a blank. Even though Rachel considered herself Harmony's friend, the blonde hadn't even bothered to find out what the other girl was dressing as... which left her feeling a tiny bit uncomfortable now.

"My Halloween involved a lot of hiding," Rachel admitted. "Everybody was _insane_! They're saying on the radio that there was some kind of chemical spill at the docks? A cloud of Acetone, or Ketone, or something, and that it made people see things and lose control of themselves." She sounded doubtful, and Harmony shot her a sidelong look.

"That makes sense, I guess," she offered. "I mean, I remember seeing things that _had_ to be hallucinations. Magic, and flying creatures, and people with laser guns. And there were zombies too, plus some kind of combat cyborg.... All of it being one shared drug trip is more likely than the alternative, right? Because none of those things are real. Obviously."

They hit some morning traffic about then, and while they were waiting for their turn to pull out onto the main street Rachel turned in the seat and gave her an odd look. Harmony spent several seconds wondering what had prompted the other girl's surprise; was it something about what she'd said? Then she realized what it was, and wished she could smack herself.

_It's not what I said, it's how I said it. Too articulate; too different, too soon._

"Anyway, I can't remember any of it too well; it's all jumbled and fuzzy in my head!" she declared brightly, trying to sound as empty-headed as possible, "What really matters is that my brand new boots came through everything okay! Which is totally the most important thing!"

Rachel smiled weakly, and when Harmony raised her knee up as far as possible in order to show off the awesome footwear, the other girl had to nod in appreciation.

"Those are cool boots," she agreed, guiding the car carefully past the two police cars and the fire truck that were parked in front of a still-smoldering building. "I think the people who got hurt might not think shoes are the _most_ important thing, though." Her face fell even further. "The radio said some got killed, too, and that a few of them were kids from Sunnydale High."

Harmony had been all set to babble some more, to ease any suspicions the girl might still be harboring. Now she sat quietly and thought that last part over instead.

_People died? Well, yeah, I'm sure they did. In fact, I imagine that 'Terminator' guy was just some poor slob in a costume, until the spell kicked in. And when the magic went away it wouldn't have mattered to him very much, since I sort of turned his insides to dust and watched them leak out of his skin._

That would have been bad enough, all on its own. Thing was, the body count that could be laid at her feet was higher than that.

A lot higher.

_That crowd of zombies that attacked us; me and Lara and Indy. Those were people too, and I don't think many of them walked away after we got through with them._

She wasn't sure how she felt about that. On the one hand, 'oh-my-god-what-have-I-done?!' was certainly the expected, civilized response. There was that new side of her, however, the part that had spent thousands of years growing up in and living as part of a violent, war-like culture, that felt carelessly ambivalent about the entire affair.

_It was self-defense_, that part of her would have said. _At the very least it was self-defense, and if I'm truthful then the reality is that I probably_ saved _lives. Everyone I killed, or helped kill, was aggressively attacking random bystanders. Taking them out saved every one of the victims they would have maimed and killed._

Which was fair enough, as far as it went. Of course the thing that she didn't especially want to examine more closely was that the new part of her, the ancient goddess part, did not in any way actually _care_ how many humans had died, or why. After all, they were only mortals; trivial, insignificant creatures that were of little worth at the best of times. Since they were going to die after a few brief decades anyway, from sickness, violence, or simple age, why did the details of their passing matter at all?

"You look really great today, by the way."

The comment came out of nowhere, rousing Harmony from her troubling thoughts, and causing her to glance at Rachel in surprise. They were just pulling into the school parking lot, and the other girl spared her a brief smile as she scanned the spaces for a parking spot.

"I mean, most people who were out in that are probably going to either stay home today, or come in looking completely trashed. And here you are, looking fantastic."

Feeling immensely pleased at the compliment, Harmony regarded the other girl.

_She's nice, isn't she? She said that to cheer me up, because I was looking all sad and thoughtful about the people getting hurt--though not exactly for the reasons she thought I was._

It was an odd little relationship, between the two of them. Rachel wasn't anywhere near the top of the social food chain at the school. She was pleasant enough, in her quiet way, but there were several strikes against her. Being _almost_ poor would have been bad enough; her beat-up car and completely untrendy clothes weren't the kind of things the elite cliques would easily tolerate. The real issue, however, the truly unforgivable crime... was her face.

Rachel might have been pretty, or plain, or somewhere in between. Nobody would ever know, because she suffered from a skin condition that left her looking like she had the world's most severe case of acne. It _wasn't_ acne, not technically, but that didn't really matter to anyone but a doctor. The fact remained that her face was covered in huge blotches of red, inflamed skin, and adorned with a couple hundred disgusting pimples. It would have been a horrible fate for anyone; it was devastating to a teenage girl.

Among the population of the various popular (or semi-popular) crowds Sunnydale High, Harmony was the only one who interacted with Rachel at all. The girl wasn't even a good enough student to be a nerd in good standing, so unless she wanted to spend all her time with the total losers, Harm was it.

And, sadly, the only real reason Harmony tolerated Rachel was the free rides back and forth to school she provided when Cordelia was too busy to be bothered. On the days when she did get to ride in Cordy's beautiful convertible, poor Rachel would be left to wait in vain, giving her ten or fifteen minutes to show, before finally driving off alone. She never complained, either, and for some reason Harmony never gave the girl's feelings a second thought.

Like a lot of other things in her life, that was something she was seeing a little differently today, thanks to the new perspective her transformation had provided. As the other girl pulled the old Mustang into a parking spot and shut off the engine, Harmony found herself gazing at her thoughtfully. When Rachel opened her door and started to climb out she noticed the blonde's stare, and froze.

"What is it?" she asked, looking suddenly self-conscious. Well, _more_ self-conscious than usual... which was definitely saying something. Harmony shook her head slightly.

"Last night. What did you dress as?"

Rachel shrugged.

"A witch. Not the most original choice I could have made, I know."

Harmony smiled faintly in acknowledgement, but pressed the issue.

"Ugly witch or sexy witch?"

Rachel gave her a resigned look, and tapped her eruption-covered cheek with one finger.

"What do you think? Ugly all the way." She leaned back and retrieved her books from the back seat, her mouth pressed into a thin line. "It was almost too easy. I'm most of the way to pulling off that look every single day, you know?" She got out, her movements jerky with an anger and bitterness that had been with her for a long time now.

Opening her own door and pulling herself out, Harmony met her gaze across the roof of the car.

"I think you should have gone as a sexy witch. That way, if the... chemical spill... had affected you, then maybe you'd have had one night of being, um...."

The wistfulness of Rachel's smile came through, even with the fright mask of her awful skin doing its best to hide it.

"Of being pretty?" she asked. "I'm kind of glad it didn't happen. Having it, even if it was just me tripping on fumes and _thinking_ I had it, and having everything go back to normal afterwards... that would be worse." Both of them had their bags, so Rachel locked the car and they walked towards the front of the school. "Besides, I've given up on ever being any different than this. They've tried every kind of medicine around, and all the treatments our insurance covers. Nothing helps." She glanced over at Harmony, looked her up and down, and then shook her head as they crossed the street to reach the front entrance. "I'm not one of the beautiful people. That's the way it is, and that's what I have to live with."

Harmony made a noncommittal sound, then shook back her hair, trying to find some words of comfort that wouldn't sound utterly lame. Before she could find any, something happened that literally knocked the breath out of her, and she forgot all about words, comforting or otherwise.

As soon as her boots touched the grass of the school's small front lawn, a shock ran through her from the soles of her feet to the top of her head. Nearly stumbling, Harmony caught at Rachel's shoulder to keep her balance. The other girl's mouth moved, but no sound reached her ears; every mortal sense faded before what her mystical awareness was screaming at her.

It was here.

The dimensional fracture, the fault line that ran beneath the town like an insanely dangerous magical San Andreas, lay directly beneath the building in front of her. Harmony braced herself, regained her footing, took long, slow breaths, and stared in amazement at the high school.

_All this time, it's been like this, and I didn't know._ How _did I not know? How can anyone come here every day, and walk around in there for hours and hours, and not feel..._ that _pressing in all around them?_

Of course, not everyone had her senses, and to a magically-blind human being it must seem pretty much like any other place. A little odd, perhaps, a place where it was impossible to ever feel at ease or relaxed... but then again it _was_ a high school, so that wasn't unusual, was it?

"--eeling okay, Harmony? Harmony?"

With effort she turned her head, and brought her vision back into alignment with the purely physical world.

"Huh?" she said, no doubt stunning the girl with her eloquence. "I mean, yes, I'm--" She took her hand away from Rachel and stood up straight on her own. "Fine. I'm fine. Sorry, these new boots keep tripping me up, is all." Warily she started walking again, tentatively probing at the edges of the mystical upwelling. There didn't really seem to be all _that_ much in the way of actual energy coming through the fault, not for what it was. And, so far as she could tell, it _seemed_ stable enough. Some sort of barrier, either natural or artificial, appeared to be in place, holding it in check. Still, she could sense the strain there, the enormous tension that strained the barrier to its very limit. Walking up to the school was like walking beneath a megaton weight suspended by a rat's nest of frayed, creaking rope. Sure, the thing hadn't fallen yet, and it might not fall for another week or month or year... but at some point it _was_ going to crush everything below, and probably without any warning at all.

Harmony shook herself free of those thoughts. Discovering more about this phenomena would be very helpful as she learned more about how her magic worked. Since it hadn't blown up in all the years the school had been on top of it, she would just have to trust that it wouldn't blow up this year either.

And if it was going to let go, she should probably learn enough to recognize the warning signs, so that she could get herself to safety when it went.

So, back to the real world, and the painfully ignorant beings who were milling about, unaware of the sleeping threat beneath their feet. The usual groupings of students were scattered around the concrete benches and along the steps leading into the school, killing time before the start of classes. As she and Rachel approached, a familiar form stepped out from a cluster of stylishly-dressed Seniors and moved to meet them.

* * * * *

"Why are you not answering your phone?" Cordelia demanded. "I spend the entire night as this superhero-superthief-superbabe Black Cat person, I fight monsters and steal jewelry and chase some loser in a Spiderman costume all over town, throwing myself at him --ew!-- and the skinny little dork keeps telling me no for some reason; telling me no, if you can believe that, and he's crying and moaning the whole time about how I don't love _Peter_ I only love _Spiderman_... like I even care about either one of them when I'm in my right mind (which I _wasn't_ of course), and then when it's all over and I need to share my trauma with someone I try to call you, and I suppose you had some terribly important, totally selfish reason for not picking up your _phone_ when I tried to call _five times_ this morning?!"

Harmony eyed Cordelia for a moment. Even with her brain working better than it ever had in her life, that rapid-fire rant wasn't easy to process.

"Awesome hair!" she offered cheerily instead, admiring the other girl's pure white mane. It was straighter than Cordy usually wore it, a little longer and fuller than before... and very, very white.

"Yeah, I know. Like I told you already: Black Cat!" Cordelia tugged at one pale lock, looking disgruntled. "I didn't have time to change it back before school; I probably shouldn't even try, with it like this. Better to get an appointment at the salon and let a professional do it."

Intrigued, Harmony again shifted her perceptions to the magical plane, tuning out the threatening background rumble of the dimensional rift with difficulty.

"Your hair didn't change back? Is anything else... different?"

She saw the answer for herself, even before Cordelia shook her head.

"Nope, all gone before morning, which is sort of too bad, because having a super-gymnast body was the only part of the whole thing that didn't totally suck." She paused, and for a second looked uncharacteristically abashed. "Okay, there might have been one other, more or less positive change, too...." Her hand sort of reluctantly lifted, and brushed across her breasts. Harmony belatedly recalled how in the comics Kelsey had shown them, the Black Cat character was consistently drawn with a truly enormous bust line. Only in a make-believe universe could someone built like that be supernaturally quick and agile, but there it was. Cordelia's outfit had included the padding to round out her own, already impressive figure, in order to match the comics. Now Harmony found herself wondering what it had been like, when Ethan's spell made that fantasy come true, if only for a few hours.

_Actually, I don't have to wonder,_ she told herself. _I got a serious upgrade in the bod department, too, and mine even 'stuck'. I'm not seeing any lasting effects on Cordy, though, other than the hair thing... okay, and maybe just the teeniest little echo of something magical still bouncing around her aura. It's not enough to matter... although her boobs might still be just the slightest bit bigger than they were yesterday?_

She started to say something, to offer the sympathy that her friend was impatiently waiting to receive, when someone behind her spoke first.

"You're saying that you didn't dye your hair that color? That it really changed all by itself?" Rachel asked, cautious disbelief in her voice. "How can that be? If there were enough fumes in the air to actually bleach hair, then it would have killed everyone, wouldn't it? I don't even know if it's poss--"

"Hi!" Cordelia interrupted, her bared teeth in no way mistakable for an actual smile. "Sorry if I didn't include you in our private conversation, but I was busy _ignoring you_!"

Rachel took a step back, looking away from the girl's angry glare.

"I was with her," she mumbled, nodding towards Harmony. "You came up to us, not the other way around--"

"With her?" Cordelia spared the blonde only the briefest of glances, then pinned Rachel with her stare once more. "So, you're still hanging on to a hanger-on; that is truly sad. Hoping for some class, or style, or _looks_ to maybe rub off on you, even at two removes from the source? Good luck with that." She headed up the steps, gesturing imperiously for Harmony to follow her.

"Sorry," the blonde told Rachel, reaching out hesitantly with one hand, then letting fall. The other girl looked away and shrugged.

"It's okay."

"Come _on_, Harmony!" Cordelia called from up by the entrance. "If you're really that desperate for some pizza, we can get you some for lunch." Rachel hunched her shoulders and hurried off, leaving Harmony to trudge up to where her friend was waiting.

"That was way mean," she told her as they walked inside.

"I know," Cordelia said carelessly, then she frowned slightly. "I'm a little worried, though. Do you think she got that last part, with the pizza thing? Because I was comparing the pizza, the way it looks, to her face. I hope that registered, otherwise I'll have to actually speak to her again so I can hit her with a rephrased version." She genuinely looked concerned, and Harmony winced a little.

"Don't worry, she got it." Watching the pleased smirk form on Cordelia's lips, she knew it was pointless to protest. Even so, she gave it a try.

"You shouldn't treat her like that," she said, following the other girl down the hall to their lockers. "It isn't her fault she looks like that, you know. She's actually kind of nice, if you get to know her."

"Blahblahblah touchy-feely-politically-correct feelgood babble-blah!" The former brunette gave her a brief, incredulous stare as she dropped her bag to the floor and then turned to open her locker. "I don't care if you want to hang out with her in your free time, just don't expect me to join you on your adventures in the land of hideously-deformed loserdom." Harmony didn't have an answer to that; it wasn't like she could argue that Rachel didn't look gross. That much was undeniable fact, and even she had trouble looking the girl in the eye sometimes. Still, being so cruel to someone who was already being dumped on by the entire universe was awfully cold. Even a Goddess didn't go out of her way to crush lesser beings just because she _could_... well, at least not very often. Cordelia might not be a goddess, but in this place she was near enough to being a princess, born with beauty, and wealth, and all the privileges those things provided. Not that attempting to convince the girl to be a little kinder had even the slightest possibility of succeeding.

"Did everybody else make it through last night okay?" she asked instead, hoping against hope that all of the other Cordettes had each purchased something from Ethan's. Their chances of survival would have been much higher if they actually had superpowers, and not just some sexy outfits.

"They're fine," Cordelia told her absently, peering intently into the mirror that was affixed to the inside of her locker door. "Well, 'fine' is stretching it a little, but basically they're okay. Except for Kelsey." She was touching up her hair with a small comb as she gazed at her reflection, a not entirely displeased look playing across her face. "Damn, I make even _this_ look good!"

For her own part, Harmony was also indulging her vanity a bit. She couldn't help it; as soon as a mirror entered her line of sight, the part of her that was Amora began clamoring incessantly, demanding that she take a minute to examine her reflection. Not so much for fear that something would be found wanting; more that she simply couldn't stand to pass up a chance to admire her own perfection. The girl was seriously starting to wonder if she would experience some sort of physical withdrawal symptoms if she were ever deprived of mirrors for any length of time.

Now, looking over Cordelia's shoulder, (and that was something she hadn't been able to do as easily yesterday) she looked at their faces side by side, and for the first time ever felt good about the comparison. Even with the Mask spell cutting her own attractiveness down considerably, she was arguably prettier than Cordy. It would come down to personal preferences, obviously, but the decision could now definitely go either way. She smiled, feeling smug despite herself, and then, when the other girl's last comment finally registered she blinked, and pulled herself back to more serious matters.

"Wait, stop. What's wrong with Kelsey?"

Cordelia, still looking in the mirror, shifted her eyes to meet those of Harmony's reflection.

"It's no big deal, just a thing like my hair, that sort of didn't go away when--hey, wait a second." Her eyes narrowed, and the turned around to stare at Harmony directly. She scrutinized the blonde carefully, her gaze flicking from hair, to face to hands to breasts, and then back to her face. "Okay, spill it."

Even through her very real concern for Kelsey, Harmony felt an icy rush of shock. Was her disguise really that feeble? Did it really only take one close look to leave her new form completely exposed?

"Spill what?" she tried, her eyes wide and filled with innocent confusion. "And what happened to Kelsey? Something didn't go away?" Cordelia was having none of that, and refused to be diverted. With a gesture that took in the blonde's entire form she stepped in close.

"Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. This!" By way of example she reached out and grabbed a handful of golden hair. "This isn't the color you had yesterday, not by a long shot. And these!" She brought one of Harmony's hands up between their faces, and examined the beautifully shaped, long, tapering nails that adorned each finger. Even without any polish on them at all they shone with a soft luster, and Cordelia scowled as she met her eyes once more.

"Come on, tell me!" She demanded. "_When_ did you find time to get a complete makeover... and why didn't you come to me first for some advice on what to have done?"

Harmony stood there, frozen, until the moment passed and she could breathe again.

"Um... I went to have it done after school yesterday," she said slowly. "And I wanted to surprise everybody, so I didn't say anything. About Kelsey--"

"I don't know why you didn't get all of this hacked off while you were at it," Cordy told her, giving the hair she still held a little yank. "This hippy-chick thing is so incredibly retro that it's gone past being cool and come all the way around to being tacky again. And whatever it is you're using on it, it's still all dry and nasty." She dragged her fingers roughly through the heavy length of gold she held to demonstrate, and her frown deepened as she watched how the exquisitely soft strands flowed freely through her hands like liquid silk, with never a snag felt or a split-end to be seen. Harmony moved quickly to reclaim her hair before Cordelia reached the illusionary ends and found that there was another eighteen inches there that she couldn't see.

The other girl visibly restrained herself from grabbing at the blonde mane again to investigate that amazing texture further, and instead made a show of peering closely at Harmony's face.

"Okay, that isn't bad," she conceded reluctantly. "This new makeup you've got going on does a lot to hide what's wrong with your face. The green contacts, though? That's pure desperation; I'd lose them ASAP if I were you." She reached out, and Harmony hastily crouched down a little, so that the actual location of her face matched up with the illusion that was hiding several inches of new height. Cordelia didn't notice, too intent on turning the blonde's head back and forth by the chin so that she could see the different angles. Harmony thought she saw a faint but definite tension in her friend's jaw as the examination went on, and wondered if she were actually hearing the grinding of teeth or only imagining it.

"I give it an 'A' for effort," Cordy said eventually, releasing her and stepping back. "But only a B minus for execution. It's one thing to try for that sculpted, flawless, supermodel thing. It's another when you overshoot and end up looking like... like an elf." She smiled cattily and regarded the blonde with enormous pity. "Is that it? Are you trying to appeal to the Tolkien demographic now?"

Harmony made a carefully elaborate shrug, refusing to let the girl's words cut her now as they once had.

"Oh, I think I'll have a wider fan base than that," she told the former brunette with a small smile. "If all I get are offers of dates from guys with plastic swords and the leather-bound edition of the trilogy, _then_ I'll have you help me figure out a better look." She dropped the smile then, and got back to what was really worrying her. "You still haven't said what the deal is with Kelsey. Did something from her outfit 'stick'? Wasn't she going as the hero guy that was dating Electra in that one movie?"

Cordelia was still wide-eyed from the way Harmony had brushed off the Tolkien thing; it wasn't at all in character for the girl to successfully defend herself that way.

"Yeah, she went as a girl version of that guy in red," she admitted grudgingly. "The one you were so jealous of, what with that actress who played his girlfriend being your celebrity crush of the week at the time."

Remembering the key details of the movie (and blushing slightly because yes, she had been crushing pretty hard on Jennifer Garner) she suddenly became even more concerned.

"Please, don't tell me that Kelsey is... blind?"

Cordy shook her head, and Harmony breathed a sigh of relief. Then--

"I mean, she's not _completely_ blind. More like eighty, eighty-five percent, if anything." The other girl looked thoughtful for half a second or so, then shrugged carelessly. "She can still find doors, if she squints hard, and tell if it's daytime or not." She gave a little sniff of disdain. "Personally, I think she's playing it up for the attention. I've been blind before, and so long as you don't try to go anywhere or do anything, it's really not as bad as she's making it out to be."

Aghast, Harmony could only stare at her.

"For the _attention_?!"

Cordelia nodded sagely.

"Sure. And speaking of which, I can see that you're pulling the same riff, with this subtle-yet-significant boob inflation thing you've got going on." She nodded to Harmony's breasts, and the blonde girl looked down, dismayed both at being busted on her, um, 'bust', and also at the thought of a magically-blinded Kelsey sitting somewhere, all alone in a private darkness. As for her part, Cordelia really didn't seem that concerned. Granted, that weird blindness episode of hers last year had cleared up on its own pretty quickly, so maybe she was right in not getting too worked up about it? Resolving to check in with Kelsey as soon as possible, Harmony turned all her attention to her own problem. Namely, how to explain away the added fullness Cordelia had spotted.

Fortunately for her, the illusion was still hiding about half the increase, or else there would have been no possible explanation. Even so, she cursed the vanity and pride she'd inherited from Amora, which had left her unable to resist showing at least _some_ of what she'd gained overnight. Improvising a lie on the spot, she spread her hands in a gesture of surrender.

"Yeah, this is.... It's one of those bras I was telling you about. The 'enhancement' kind that my mom bought me?" Briefly forgetting to be jealous, Cordelia nodded her understanding. They'd talked about Eileen's plans for her daughter over the phone last night, right before the wave of change had swept over the town. Cordy had thought it sounded like a great idea. Harmony, thinking fast, continued on with her fabrication. "Since it's looking like I'm going to get the implants, I thought I should try this out, sort of get used to the idea before I get the real thing."

Cordelia smiled, with genuine sympathy this time.

"You poor thing!" Now that they were back to discussing Harmony's perceived flaws, the head cheerleader was back on more comfortable ground. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone." By which she meant that she would be telling _everyone_, as quickly as possible. "And you shouldn't worry, that surgery is completely safe, and you'll look _soo_ much better than you do now." Another, lingering look up and down the blonde's body made her mouth twist as if she'd bitten into something sour, though it lasted barely an instant before she schooled her expression back to something more pleasant.

"Love the boots, by the way!" she said, turning back to her locker and extracting a textbook. "That color is completely wrong for you of course--did I tell you that the contacts are awful? I did? Okay then." With one last quick look at herself in the mirror, she closed the door and picked up her bag. "So anyway, lend them to me for tomorrow night. The boots," she clarified, as Harmony gave her a faintly disbelieving look, edging towards her own locker. The traffic in the hall had been increasing steadily as the beginning of first period drew closer, and Cordelia seldom waited around for her to get her stuff out of her locker.

"I'll think about it," she told the girl, and Cordy nodded in satisfaction, taking that as the usual unconditional agreement. Trying to hurry, Harmony spent a few seconds fumbling with the dial of the combination lock, her nails making it unexpectedly difficult to manage. The minor frustration, and the stress of the conversation she'd just endured combined to make her temper flare. For just a moment she had a crystal-clear image of herself forgetting about the lock and simply plunging her fingers through the thin sheet metal and ripping off the entire door.

She didn't do it, of course; a low profile was key, at least until she figured out exactly what was going on in Sunnydale. Something about the way Cordelia had described her experiences from last night was nagging at her. At no point had the girl said anything about how she had 'seemed' to change into her character, or that any part of what had happened hadn't been real. In her usual blunt, matter-of-fact way, Cordelia had taken it as a given that it had simply been a strange event she had endured, but not in any way an _impossible_ one.

That might be just the way the girl had phrased things, in which case it wasn't significant. On the other hand, it might also be evidence that Cordelia had some previous experience with supernatural events, which in turn led to some very interesting--

"By the way," came Cordelia's voice, practically right in her ear, and Harmony nearly leapt forward and _through_ the row of lockers in surprise. Spinning around, she found the other girl looking around carefully, making sure there were no other students close enough to overhear. Leaning forward conspiratorially, she waited for Harmony to bend close before continuing.

"I know it isn't your fault that Bryan told his little story yesterday, you know, about your diet cola douche?" Cordy's perfect nose wrinkled slightly in distaste. "Anyway, all of us know you're too dumb to know any better, so that's okay." Harmony opened her mouth to hotly reply to that, only the other girl raised a hand to forestall her. "I know; we're being too generous, but that kind of givingness is part of being a cheerleader, and I take my responsibilities very seriously." She heaved a sigh, apparently reflecting on her huge contributions to the world in general, and to Sunnydale high in particular. "Anyway, we had a squad meeting before you got here, and decided that you shouldn't sit with us at lunch today. Maybe by the end of next week this will have all blown over, and your social status will be salvageable, but until then, it would be best if you didn't associate too openly with anyone on the squad. Other than me, I suppose, because my dominance is unquestioned... though I probably shouldn't press my luck either. See ya!"

Cordelia turned and headed off down the hall with long, purposeful strides, leaving Harmony standing in front of her open locker.

_I guess it's going to take awhile for my self-confidence to catch up with the physical improvements,_ she thought numbly. _Even as a Goddess, I_ still _let her roll right over me, just like always._ Grabbing her books without really looking at them, she slammed the locker closed and went off to her first class, ignoring the snickers and whispers that followed her as best she could.

* * * * *

"--And so by the middle of the seventh century, western Europe had lost most of the essential characteristics of Roman Civilization. The old Roman system of administration and taxation had completely collapsed, and the dukes and counts who represented the Merovingian king usually acted on their own initiative in commanding the fighting men and presiding over the courts in their districts. International commerce had ceased, except for a small-scale trade in--"

Harmony tuned out Ms. Arrington's droning voice, just as most of the other students in the class were likely doing. However, while her classmates were whispering quietly among themselves, or passing notes, or catching up on their sleep, she was filling a page of her notebook with lists.

_'What I know'_ was the first heading, and she wrote down the facts as she knew them, in an attempt to organize her thoughts. The first was still the most amazing one, and she had yet to completely come to terms with it.

_1). Magic is real (Wow!), and I can do magic (Yay!!!)._

That one was huge in its implications, all by itself. The world wasn't at all what she had believed it to be, even as recently as twenty-four hours ago. Although she herself was no longer what she had been, either, so maybe it all balanced out. Which led to the next one.

_2). I've been magically transformed into a Norse Goddess. _

Chewing on the end of her pen, she wondered if it mattered that the Goddess in question was actually the creation of some comic book writers just a few decades ago, and not actually a figure from legend. Deciding to come back to that later, she started writing beneath that subheading.

_My Awesome Goddess Powers (so far):_

A). Super Strength, Increased Resistance to injury (NOT Invulnerability, darn it!)

B). Ability to cast spells and to sense various magicks.

C). Mental library filled with all of Amora's Knowledge and Memories--much, much information there.

Too much, actually. She wasn't sure how to go about determining the full extent of those memories. Even a normal human being didn't know exactly how _much_ they knew; facts and memories and minor skills came to the surface when needed, and went away when they weren't. No one walked around thinking about how to tie their shoe or mentally reciting all of the geeky Star Trek trivia they knew, it was simply there when they needed it. With Harmony's memories of being Amora, it was far worse, simply because of the enormous span of time and amount of information involved. The woman had been nearly three thousand years old, after all, and still very much in her prime. That was a lot of memory to try and....

Harmony stared at the paper, stunned, then grinned as she added something else to the list of powers.

_D). Immortality. (Basically)._

She hadn't really thought that one through until now, but... wow. According to Amora's memories, she'd grown up at roughly the same speed as a human, reaching her physical maturity somewhere between sixteen and twenty years old (Gods didn't bother keeping close track of time like mortals did, so she wasn't exactly sure _how_ old she was). After reaching maturity, however, an Asgardian's ageing slowed down. Way, waaay down. They technically weren't immoral, in the sense of living forever. Still, if it took a full century (or two) to age the equivalent of a year, that was close enough to immortality for Harmony. Assuming the transformation had given her that benefit along with the other physical abilities, then she could look forward to an _extremely_ long life span. Unless something killed her first, of course.

Finishing out her list, she jotted down the remaining bits of information she had gathered so far.

_3). A sorcerer named Ethan performed a ritual that transformed everyone wearing one of his costumes._

4). I might be the only person who kept their powers. Or I might not.

There was probably some way to determine that last one, perhaps a magical ritual of her own. Something else to look into, when she had time....

_5). Real vampires exist, and probably other supernatural beings too. They're drawn to Sunnydale because of the dimensional anomaly underneath the High School._

6). Someone in authority knows this, and is actively working to keep people from finding out.

Those two were both extremely important; the first because it meant there were dangerous creatures prowling the town that were capable of hurting or killing even someone with her powers, and the second.... The second one was even more frightening, because it meant that someone had more information about what was going on than _she_ did, and that they most likely had a specific agenda. One that probably didn't include a nice, comfy spot for a cheerleader who was still feeling her way into being a deity.

Harmony looked the list over, started to begin another one on the next page of her notebook, then frowned and as an afterthought jotted a few more words at the very bottom.

_7). There is someone called 'The Slayer' here in town, and vampires fear and/or respect her._

This 'Slayer', whoever and whatever _that_ was, was another mystery that she would have to investigate, though this one might actually turn out to be a good thing. If the vampires were scared of her (and it must be a she, since the vamp from last night had mistakenly thought Harmony to be she) then maybe she would be open to the idea of an alliance. Offhand, Harmony couldn't think of any reason why a non-vampire would have issues with a Goddess showing up in town... unless the Slayer was also connected to whoever was trying to hide the supernatural events taking place in Sunnydale.

Of course, she would have to locate the Slayer before she could answer any of those questions, and at the moment she hadn't the least idea of where to begin. After all, she could be anyone, be anywhere. It would probably take months to even begin to track down--

"--Then we got back the house, and my _god_ am I glad mom's out of town or else she would have had an aneurysm over me taking him up to my bedroom."

"To your room?!" Harmony frowned at the second girl's excited squeak. The speaker was sitting in the desk immediately behind her, and even in a whisper, her voice was annoying.

"Yes. And when I finished changing out of that gown, I came back in and find him laying on my _bed_, waiting for me."

"_Eeeek!_"

She turned her head and gave Willow Rosenberg a version of Amora's favorite disdainful look, the one with the cool gaze and fractionally-arched eyebrow. The red-haired girl had the grace to look abashed, though her blond friend simply stared back with a challenging expression until Harmony turned back around.

"In your _bed_?" Willow repeated, her voice much softer than before. "What happened then?"

"He asked me why I'd dressed up in that fancy-girl costume. And I told him I was trying to be more of what he liked, you know, all frilly and delicate."

In spite of herself, Harmony found herself listening closely. She'd thought that kind of thing was beyond someone as blunt-spoken and socially-inept as Buffy Summers. Maybe there was more to the girl than anyone thought. Certainly Cordelia went out of her way to insult and ridicule her whenever possible, and had given the Cordettes more than one rant on why Buffy was unworthy of being a cheerleader, or (in her opinion) of even being allowed to attend any high school activities unless she was under close supervision by armed security guards.

"What did he say?" Willow was asking breathlessly.

"He said he'd rather have someone exciting and interesting." Harmony could hear the pleased look that must have covered Buffy's face just then. "So I made him explain what he meant by 'interesting'. It must have taken him a couple of hours, and I don't think he said a single word the whole time, but... let's just say I really liked his choice of metaphor."

Willow was making inarticulate squeaks again, and Harmony stopped listening.

_Yeah, right,_ she thought scornfully. _Isn't it funny how even though he says he doesn't care about the 'outer' you, he's still ended up dating one of the prettiest girls in school?_ Cordelia's opinions notwithstanding, no one could argue that Buffy wasn't beautiful, and no matter how 'mature' or 'sensitive' a man might be, he wasn't going to overlook a detail like that. Not that Harmony thought that was necessarily a bad thing; she'd wanted to be pretty her whole life, and Amora had forged her entire immortal existence around her matchless beauty.

No, what bothered her was when people tried so hard to pretend that appearance didn't matter. Whether you were ugly, or plain, or pretty, or absolutely gorgeous, the simple fact was that it _mattered_. It wasn't fair, not by any means... it was just the way things were. Accepting it, dealing with it, trying to change it... any of those were valid reactions--denying it was not. Harmony thought again of poor Rachel, a nice girl who was quietly shunned because of her awful appearance. _There_ was someone who would never hear the words Buffy's boyfriend had spoken, about looks not mattering... at least not from someone as attractive as he happened to be. Harmony had seen Buffy with him in the Bronze more than once, and had instantly known where at least some of Cordelia's dislike for the girl came from.

"--The virtual absence of a middle class from society meant that society was composed of the nobility, a fusion through intermarriage of aristocratic Gallo-Roman and German families who owned and exercised authority over--"

Ms. Arrington was still going on and on, writing out the occasional key point on the chalkboard at the front of the room; that was typical. What drew Harmony's wandering gaze because it was not-so-typical, was the way the other students were looking at her. There were a lot of sly grins, and barely-heard giggles, and she felt a slow burn of embarrassment as she realized most of those whispers and scribbled notes must be centered on her. What with all that had happened to her since yesterday, she had almost managed to forget what Bryan had done. Until Cordelia had brought it up before class, the entire thing had seemed distant and unreal, like it had happened to someone else. Now, though, she was suffering the consequences of her boyfriend's cruelty. No doubt the story of her stupidity had already reached every single ear in the school, despite the multiple student deaths in last night's chaos, which by rights should have dominated conversations to the exclusion of all else.

"These serfs included large numbers of formerly-free German farmers. Only about ten percent of the peasant population of Gaul maintained a free--"

For a long minute Harmony only saw the sadistic glee that was being directed at her by her classmates, who were only too happy to pounce on one of the elite cheerleader clique who stumbled, even if it was the least of them. She stared down at her desk without seeing it, concentrating on not crushing her pen in her fist, as her other hand combed slowly over and over through her spill of golden hair in one of Amora's habitual calming gestures. The soothing movement worked well enough that she was soon able to look up once more, glance around the room, and notice something she hadn't seen before.

Not everyone was laughing at her.

Here and there, scattered around the room, a few boys (and Angela Crowe, for some reason) were looking at her in an entirely different way. Granted, none of them were exactly staring in love struck awe or panting with insatiable lust in her direction. Still, Amora had been an expert in reading expressions and body language, especially the ones that indicated attraction, and... well, those few individuals definitely looked attracted. Harmony hurriedly looked away, staring at the chalkboard where Ms. Arrington stood as she thought about _that._

Okay, so even before last night I didn't look like dog food or anything. Actually, I was pretty darn cute... in a total air-headed blonde sort of way.

Which was completely true. Still, she'd never gotten interested looks from these particular people (especially Angela! Ew!). Apparently even the (mostly) subtle upgrades in the looks department that she had allowed her illusionary self were enough to draw some appreciative stares, despite the awful story currently making the rounds.

Or possibly it had something to do with the way she was sitting a little lower in her desk than usual, somehow managing to give the impression of lounging seductively in the hard seat without having actually shifted more than a few inches from her usual posture. Her fingers were still playing with her hair, too, only now it was a kind of artfully flirtatious thing that accompanied furtive glances at her admirers from beneath lowered lashes.

All of this, without Harmony consciously trying to do any of it. Which led her back (finally) to her list making. The second one she entitled '_Things I don't know'_, and of course there was one burning question that came at the beginning of that one:

_1). Are these changes permanent, or is it all going to go away?_

It was a terrifying possibility, and a very real one. As quickly as her new form and abilities had appeared, they could vanish just as suddenly. Until she knew exactly why she still had her altered form while everyone else (presumably) had lost theirs, she simply wouldn't know if her new self was here to stay. Finding Ethan and questioning him about the details of the magick he had worked seemed the logical way to determine that, only she hadn't any clues about where he might have--

She paused in her musing, distracted by a slight, almost imperceptible tugging on her hair from behind. Turning around once more, she found a red-faced Willow snatching her hand back guiltily.

"Sorry!" the girl apologized in a whisper. "It's just really, um... golden..ish?" She looked away, and back at Harmony, and down at her desk, and back again. "Sorry," she repeated. "Your hair's very pretty today, is all. And very... soft."

Harmony tried for an offended glare, only it wouldn't quite come. It was hard to be angry when she'd just received a complement, even if it wasn't a very articulate one.

"Thanks," she murmured, and turned back to face front... though not before she'd pulled the masses of silken gold forward over her shoulder so that that it was out of Willow's reach. A quick caress reassured her that there hadn't been any pranks involving chewing gum or superglue--that had happened to her before, and her hair had been a much less inviting target then. From behind her she heard the nerdy girl whispering to Buffy.

"I don't know why I did that! I never do things like that! Weird!"

"You're weird," Buffy agreed.

Harmony tried to ignore them, her pen busy.

_2). Does Cordelia really know anything about what's going on in Sunnydale? With the Magic? With the vampires? Should I ask her?_

From the way the other girl had been talking about her adventures last night, it seemed like she might know that the magical transformation had been real, and not just a vivid hallucination caused by toxic fumes. If that were true, then why had she never confided in Harmony? Was it that she thought her blonde friend wouldn't believe her? Or was it that she thought Harmony too stupid to understand something as bizarre as monsters and magic sharing their world?

She'd thought about confiding in Cordelia; telling her everything that had happened, demonstrating her new powers, the whole deal. Now, though, she wasn't so sure. If Cordy really were her best friend, then at the very least she should have told Harmony about the vampires. How many times had she walked home alone, or gone out into the dark, never knowing the danger? She could have been killed a dozen times over... all because her friend had not seen fit to warn her. Was that the kind of person, the kind of 'friend' that she could trust with her secret? How could she risk it, when it was possible that Cordelia had--

"Miss Kendall!"

Harmony jerked upright in her seat, the startled movement so abrupt that she nearly tore the desk apart. Hoping that no one noticed how the metal frame was slightly bent now, she looked up at the teacher standing in front of her.

"Yes?" Pure instinct directed her eyes to fill with helpless innocence, and she mentally kicked herself for not paying closer attention.

"Should I assume you're taking notes on the lecture? Because that _is_ the point of this class. Someone like you"--meaning 'someone stupid' "Should use ever opportunity to learn the material, or else we'll be spending time together again next semester."

Martha Arrington was a hard, bitter, twenty-year veteran of the teaching profession, and she had no patience at all for the pretty, giggly, teenage girls who passed through her classroom. Still, the pattern of behavior suggested by the Amora memories prompted Harmony to alter her voice and posture ever-so-slightly, to project the feeling of a small, lost child.

"Um, yes, ma'am, I _was_ taking notes. It's just that you were going kind of fast? Could you please repeat that last part, about the peasants?" The woman's hard gaze didn't thaw, and Harmony tried to cover her notebook with her hand without _seeming_ like she was trying to cover it. With a scowl on her lined, careworn face, the woman reached down and moved Harmony's hand (which the girl _allowed_ to be moved; there was no point in getting in trouble for fighting with a teacher on top of whatever other punishment was shortly going to land on her).

"_This_ looks more like doodling than notes, Miss Kendall," Arrington told her grimly. "If you're not going to at least try to pass this class, then I don't know why you're wasting my time, and everyone else's along with...." She trailed off as she picked up the notebook and took a closer look at what Harmony had written. When she flipped back to the previous page, the girl wanted to shrink down in her seat and disappear. Since she didn't remember how to do that at the moment, she waited instead.

_How I'm going to explain the stuff I wrote about 'Goddess transformations' and 'magic and vampires are out there' I really don't know. Maybe I'll say my psychiatrist just started me on Prozac to help deal with stress at home, and the dosage isn't right yet? That one always works for Cordelia._

"What is this?" Ms. Arrington asked her, a peculiar look on her face.

"Well," Harmony began uncertainly, still using the helpless and innocent eyes thing for all they were worth. "What happened is that my, um, psychiatrist person gave me a prescription for--"

The woman dropped the notebook back to the desk, then reached over to Harmony's open textbook and began flipping pages. For her part, the girl stared down at the list she'd been composing, and felt her eyes widen slightly. The words she'd put down only minutes earlier were exactly as she'd written them... but they weren't in English. Instead, the letters were some alien form of writing, all straight lines, joining and crossing each other to form angles that were strange to Harmony's eyes. She _knew_ that language, knew how to write it and read it and speak it... she just hadn't realized she knew it until now.

Ms. Arrington stopped paging through the book, and they both looked from Harmony's notes to the text on the page.

"Norse Runes; the Elder Futhark alphabet," the teacher read. Glancing up at the girl, she pointed at what was written in the notebook. "Am I supposed to believe that you've actually been practicing using Norse runes? That you've actually been reading ahead of the class, and are expending energy to learn about something other than clothes and makeup and how to shake pom-poms?"

Guided by the life experience of a Goddess well-accustomed to manipulation, Harmony nodded earnestly.

"I'm sorry I disrupted the class and everything, it's just that I _really_ want to pass this class." Innocent, helpless, earnest; her eyes could do all three at once, and the voice was that of a small child seeking the love and approval of the only person in her life that had ever truly mattered.... "I was going to surprise you; maybe turn in something written all in Norse for extra credit?" She gave a tiny, heartbroken sigh, and looked away. "It's all ruined now. You found out before I could surprise you, and I've made you mad, too. All those hours I spent working on it...." Looking and sounding like she would collapse in tears at any moment, she looked up at the woman with trembling lips. "I'm _sorry_."

Martha Arrington was no rookie at the teaching game. She'd seen girls cry in class, had _made_ girls cry in class, and a few boys, too. She was not the sort of person who could be wrapped around someone's little finger with a few soft words and some pretty eyes brimming with tears. And yet....

And _yet...._

"It's fine," she told the girl, her voice unaccustomedly soft. "I'm glad you're finally applying yourself." Awkwardly she patted Harmony on the shoulder in an attempt to comfort her, and was rewarded with a tremulous smile that was like brilliant sunlight breaking through the clouds. She couldn't help smiling in return, and she poked the notebook with one finger. "This is wonderful. I look forward to seeing the final version, _after_," her voice grew stern, just not too stern, lest she upset the poor girl again. "After, that is, we get to the chapter on Vikings, which isn't for three more weeks. In the meantime how about we focus on _this_ chapter, all right?"

Harmony nodded enthusiastically, her eyes shining with happiness now, instead of the instantly-vanished tears.

"Yes ma'am, I will! Thank you!"

Still smiling slightly (and looking decidedly unnatural while doing so), Ms. Arrington walked back to the front of the class, only to have the bell ring, ending class.

"Remember, everyone," she told the students as they stood. "The grief councilors will be at the usual locations all day today, to help everyone deal with the friends you lost last night. Don't be afraid to ask for their help if you're having trouble dealing with the... usual trauma, and all that."

No one paid any attention to the announcement; although multiple deaths among the student body were slightly unusual, it was far from unheard of. No one except the dead kids' actual friends really cared that they were gone. Life went on, it was just another day at school.

Harmony took one last look at her notes, then closed up the notebook with another, more genuine sigh.

_I can't believe I got away with that_, she thought to herself in wonder. Then, a moment later, she had to shrug, and smile. _I guess I should get used to it, though. Getting away with things I shouldn't is kind of going to be my theme from now on, isn't it?_

Standing up, she noted that the students who had been whispering and smirking at her were looking very confused by her skillful escape. They simply weren't used to that kind of fancy footwork by the least-talented of the cheerleader elite. Her admirers, on the other hand, though heavily outnumbered, were smiling in appreciation. Smiling back at them, Harmony swept out of the class in regal fashion, her head held high.

* * * * *

She was making a quick stop in the bathroom between classes, to touch up her makeup a bit (and also make absolutely certain that Willow hadn't used a marker or something on her hair, earlier) when she noticed Angela Crowe looking at her again. The girl was lurking back by the stalls, nearly out of sight, but Harmony still caught the occasional glimpse of her in the mirror's reflection as she applied a touch of color to her lips with a tiny brush.

_Okay, I'm not sure what to do about_ this, she thought ruefully.

Yes, it was sort of impressive that whatever magical mojo was backing her new and improved hotness could even snag the occasional girl, as well as the guys. And yes, both Harmony-her and Amora-her both enjoyed being lusted after, regardless of the gender of the person doing the lusting. Regardless of those things, she was still left with the question of what to _do_ about it, especially in this case.

Harmony wasn't into girls. Well, not in real life, anyway. It was one thing to crush on Charlize Theron, or Jennifer Garner, or some other Hollywood actress she was never going to meet. That was more of a fan girl thing anyway, not something where she actually wanted to have sex with the person involved.

(Okay, except for Charlize. For her, Harmony would be willing to give it a whirl, just to see how things went).

In the here and now, really-real world, however, it wasn't going to happen. Even though, the more she thought about it, the more her Amora memories tried to tell her that it wasn't such a big deal. In fact, some of the most amazing lovers the Goddess had ever, um, 'had', had been female. So maybe she should simply relax, and see what developed... perhaps even encourage the girl who was even now staring at her with confused longing--

No. No way. Whatever Amora had been like, Harmony was not in any way like that. Not at all. Not even if Angela had been sort of cute. Which she was, in an admittedly gothy kind of way.

The girl was nearly as tall as Harmony herself, with thick, dark hair that fell dead-straight to her waist. She somehow managed to be 'big boned' without actually looking gawky or fat. Instead, she had the most amazing shoulders; wide (for a girl), but soft and smoothly formed, breasts that were just big enough to match the rest of her, with a narrow waist and modestly-curved hips that had convinced some of the preppy boys to ignore the goth thing and ask her for dates anyway. She always wore black Tripp pants that were covered with zippers and chains, and it was sometimes hard to tell if she truly was looking at you, what with her long bangs hanging down to mostly hide her dark eyes.

She was pretty, once you got past the lack of fashion sense and the half-dozen earrings dangling from each ear, and no, Harmony was most definitely not going to do anything to encourage what looked like the onset of a serious crush. She was not, for example, going to lean forward to closely examine her face in the mirror, which just happened to make her already short and snug skirt pull even higher and tighter, displaying her perfect ass to full advantage. She was also not going to lift one green-clad foot and with her booted toe slowly stroke up and down against the slimly-curved calf of her other leg. Nope, she was not going to do either of those things... until she realized that she was already doing them, and very much enjoying the gob smacked look on reflected-Angela's face as she watched this happening.

Harmony's face heated, even as she tried to concentrate on touching up her eyeshadow.

_This is_ not _fair! It's one thing to write with funny letters without realizing I'm doing it, but this! I want to be the one who decides who I flirt with! I want to be the one who decides if I'm straight, or gay, or bi, or whatever the heck I decide I'm going to be!_

Even with her mind in turmoil, her hands moved with incredible delicacy and skill, and she paused, startled, to admire the magazine-cover quality result.

_Wow, Amora knew her way around a make-up brush too, didn't she? _

Sure, the illusion altering her features could have taken care of the make-up as well, if she'd set it up that way. Opting not to do so, and keeping the magic as simple as possible, had actually made the false image much stronger. So all the illusion was doing was changing the shape of her features (slightly), making her hair appear shorter, and rendering her entire form at a slightly-reduced size, to hide her new height. The make-up was real, and showed through the image, and... it looked darn good. Which didn't help with the 'girls are suddenly looking uncomfortably yummy to me' thing at all.

Since she was busy thinking about several things at once, it was perhaps understandable that she didn't notice anything odd about the three girls who entered the bathroom until one of them was nearly on top of her. It was the smirk on Aspen Meers' face in the mirror that made Harmony turn quickly to face her, and it was the hiss of released air as the girl twisted the top off of a bottle of cola that made her stomach clench tight in dread.

"Harmony!" the other girl exclaimed brightly, her smile echoed rather nastily by her two companions. "I thought I saw you come in here. Need to clean up? Did you and Bryan have a quickie in the broom closet?" Aspen was practically oozing with helpfulness as she offered the twelve-ounce plastic bottle of Coca-Cola to Harmony. "Here you go! Wouldn't want to turn up preggers for Christmas with the family, would you?" Her expression turned to one of mock-concern, and she pulled the bottle back. "Now, I know you're not bright enough to know how this is supposed to work, so here, I'll just take care of it for you, okay? Open wide!"

And with that she shoved the bottle towards the blonde's skirt, with the clear intention of pushing it up underneath and against the bikini-style panties she was wearing. Once again, Harmony found herself reacting too slowly when taken by surprise, especially by something physical and right up in her personal space like this. There was no time to think of a spell, much less cast one, and she was likewise frozen by the knowledge that if she were to do magic openly, it would be all over town by evening. A physical response of her own was clearly the way to go, only her overriding instinct was to flinch away, and desperately hope that her attacker wouldn't hurt her too badly. It was a reflex created by an endless lifetime spent among beings who could dent steel and shatter stone with their lightest blows, but it was still her reflex, even with faced with a girl armed only with a plastic bottle of soda. Cringing against the sinks, she had just enough time to lament the fact that she managed to be so weak, even while being so very, very strong.

"Hey, whatd'y'think you're--!?"

Harmony looked up in shock that was nearly as great as Aspen's, as a tall, dark figure grabbed the hand holding the bottle and wrenched it back. With an angry snarl on her face that was nearly hidden by the dark hair spilling across it, Angela clamped her thumb over the open top of the bottle and began shaking it vigorously.

"You know what, Aspen?" she growled, her voice low and predatory. "I think you need this more than she does. And since I know how you usually end up getting it from the boys, I know just where it needs to go if it's going to do the spermicidal thing." She stepped in close to the startled girl and grabbed her by the collar of her blouse. "Now," she said, repeating the girl's own words back to her. "Open wide!"

With that she removed her thumb and jammed the now geysering bottle into Aspen's mouth, which sent foaming soda spraying down the girl's throat, out her nose, from the corners of her mouth, and probably a little into her lungs, too. It only lasted a moment; Angela had to drop her when one of the girl's friends lunged at her, screeching. That sound cut off quickly when the tall goth snapped one foot up in a blur, planting it exactly between her attacker's breasts. The girl stopped like she'd run into a wall, and then sat down hard, gasping for breath. Aspen, too, was gasping and gagging, with brown cola and long threads of mucus dripping from her lips and nostrils. Her gorgeous dress was spattered with both, and her shining chestnut-brown hair was trailing in the mess too as she crouched in the floor dry-heaving. The third girl looked at her two friends, decided she wanted none of what they had gotten, and fled.

Harmony stood slowly, using the sink to support herself, and gazed wide-eyed at her savior. Angela looked back, her shoulders heaving as she breathed heavily, her eyes nearly lost behind her wild hair. They stood there, frozen, until Harmony opened her mouth to speak... and Angela ran for the door, vanishing even more quickly than the cowardly girl that had preceded her.

Staring thoughtfully at where the two girls both sat on the floor, momentarily incapacitated, Harmony found herself forced to reconsider her earlier thought.

_Um. All right, maybe it wouldn't be so bad, having her around. And she _is _cute, even with the gothiness. I wonder if she takes karate or something...._

"T-that black-haired _cow!_" Aspen had forced herself up into a half-sitting position, and was wiping angrily at the spittle on her chin. "I'll fix her! She won't think this is so funny when I get a couple of guys on the football team to hold her down while I beat the shit out of her!"

Harmony tilted her head, considering, and then turned the tap on the sink.

"Take it easy, Aspen," she told the other girl in a soothing voice. A quick glance showed the girl that had been kicked to still be lying on the floor, curled up in a fetal position while wheezing for breath. With a nod of satisfaction, she wet her fingertips from the tap, then bent down in front of Aspen. "Here, let me help you get cleaned up." She flicked her fingers at the girl, and a few tiny drops of water struck her blotchy face, accomplishing absolutely nothing so far as restoring her appearance.

The magic that Harmony sent along with the droplets, however, drove deeply into Aspen's body. It was a tiny curse, so simple that she needed neither spoken word nor further gesture to cast it, and she straightened up with a bright smile.

"There, that's better. I've got to get to class now, but I'll see you later." She stopped, eyed the girl again, and put on a look of false concern. "If I were you I'd go and see the school nurse. You look a little sick... oh wait, that's just all the snot and drool and the rest on your face. Even without that, though, you look like you're coming down with something nasty."

A quick look in the mirror reassured her that none of the offending spatter had managed to reach her, and she strolled out of the room and off to her next class. As the door closed behind her, she heard a muffled sneeze, an angry sniff, and then two more sneezes in rapid succession. Wondering idly where her defender had run off to, Harmony put a mental image of Angela up next to Charlize and Jennifer, and compared them.

_Hm. Not bad. Not bad at all._

* * * * *

Author's Note: The History class lecture exerpts are from 'Civilization Past & Present: Prehistory to 1650', Chapter 8.  
Because I slept through that class too, and there was no way I could remember that stuff.


	5. Sunnydale 90210 Part Two

**'Sunnydale 90210' (Part Two)**

See Chapter One for Disclaimer

Author's Note: Remember, even a goddess needs love. Please show Harmony you love her story (or maybe just like it…) (…like it a little?) by leaving a review.

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"--Because I have to believe that if you've read this book from cover to cover (and I hope for your final grade's sake that you _have_ read it from cover to cover), then you must... um.... Ahem. I'm sure, then, that if... read it you have, then must you have... ahem! Sorry, guys, for the Yoda-speak, there. What I'm trying to say is that I'm sure that completely you've book the read, and, er, that you've got an opinion on it!"

Mr. Buckley finished in a rush, looking relieved in the extreme to have finally completed his thought... after a fashion. The English teacher could perhaps be forgiven for being a little flustered, because Harmony was amusing herself by playing a little game. Not wanting to chance a repeat of the earlier problem with her note taking, she had spent second period being an exemplary student. She paid close attention to Mr. Buckley (or 'Dan', as his favorite students were allowed to call him). In fact, she paid such close attention to him from her front-row seat that the man quickly grew a bit distracted.

At first, not fully realizing the extent of her newfound power, she'd hit him with the flirting equivalent of a battle ax between the eyes. Amora, it turned out, had a collection of tics that both soothed her and (not coincidentally) served to draw the attention of potential conquests. Put simply... the woman couldn't keep her hands off of herself.

Literally.

Harmony had barely noticed the thing in first period where as she wrote her free hand kept ending up in her hair, either combing slowly through it, or winding an errant lock around and around her fingers. She had always done a little of that herself, after all, and so she'd thought nothing of it. When English class had started, however, she soon discovered that it went quite a ways beyond that. With Mr. Buckley walking back and forth in front of her, discussing that stupid book that he'd forced them to read, she noticed that he was soon having trouble looking away from her. A minute later, he hastily turned to face the board, and spent an uncomfortable-looking time in speaking about the author without ever facing his students.

She'd realized at that point that without ever realizing it, her hand had begun caressing her thigh, just at that place where the top of her boot stopped, and bottom of her skirt didn't quite reach. It felt... good. Comforting, even, but most especially... good, both the part of her being touched and also the part doing the touching. Not only was every inch of her skin incredibly sensitive, it was also just as she'd always imagined Charlize's would be; smooth, and soft, and utterly without flaw. It was actually quite difficult to make herself stop doing it, though with difficulty she managed... only to give a start a few moments later when she found that her other hand was stroking lightly along the upper curve of one breast, her fingertips drawing feather-light lines of pleasure along her skin, and rousing a gentle tingle that made her sigh softly even as she snatched the hand back down to her desk.

It was the oddest thing, really, and Harmony couldn't quite figure out if it was perverted in some way or not. It wasn't like she was molesting someone else, or even doing anything obscene. She wasn't groping herself, or putting her hand down her pants in public. She was simply.... It was just that....

Basically, Amora loved her body. She loved looking at it, loved touching it, loved to have it touched. Her body, which was now Harmony's, was her prized possession, and she was justifiably proud of it. It was maybe a little weird to be constantly fondling random bits of it, granted. That wasn't the kind of thing a person did in polite company.

Still, the effect it had on poor Mr. Buckley had been infinitely entertaining. When he'd gotten the raging, um, 'mad on' in response to her self-admiration, she had decided to ease up, and had folded her hands on the desk and kept them there. The sigh of relief from the poor man had been audible all the way at the back of the classroom. Not that his respite had lasted for long. Deciding to see if she could provoke the same effect with both hands tied (figuratively) behind her back, Harmony had watched him attentively as he resumed his discussion of the book. She had _only_ watched him, and done nothing else. It was the _way_ she had watched that had produced results very similar to those of her earlier actions. With all of her attention focused on the man, she let her gaze melt into one of softly-rapt adoration. With nothing but her eyes, she told him that he was the only man for her. That he alone was worthy of her, that he alone could satisfy her, and that she was waiting, breathlessly, for him to overcome his own indecision and cross the last few feet that still separated them from endless happiness... and unending pleasure.

Poor Dan had nearly swallowed his own mustache when he'd nervously glanced at her and that look hit him head-on. After that he had done his best to not look at her at all... not that it helped. Wherever he walked, whatever he did, whatever he said, the heat and weight of her gaze was an almost physical presence that he could not escape. After five minutes, Mr. Buckley was flushed and sweaty, and five minutes after that his hands were trembling noticeably. A few of the students were beginning to wonder if the man were having some kind of fit, either a very mild seizure or a stroke, and Harmony herself was starting to think that unless she cut it out her English teacher was going to lose control of himself and try to ravish her right then and there. That image might have given Amora a little thrill; it did nothing for Harmony (because, for one thing, moustaches were entirely gross).

And so she eased up, and scribbled a few words in her notebook in English, then the same ones again using runes, just to make certain she could tell which was which. When she'd looked up again it was to find that Dan had regained a measure of composure, which brought them to the present, and the little discussion period Mr. Buckley liked to use to wrap up things after a book.

"So we've seen what he was doing with the novel," the teacher was saying as he paced slowly along the front row of desks. "He was telling us what mattered most to him, telling us his 'truth'. Now whether or not you agree with him isn't the point; what the book is intended to do is show you something, and force you to think about it, to decide for yourself what matters to you. To find your own 'truth', for lack of a better term. So lets find out if he succeeded." At random he pointed to a student sitting three rows back. "Mr. Inman. Tell us your truth. What matters most to you? What single concept most clearly defines your hopes and dreams and all the rest of that good stuff?"

The boy looked uneasy with everyone in the class suddenly staring at him, and he adjusted his glasses nervously.

"Um... getting a good job and being rich someday would be nice, I guess."

Scattered laughter greeted that, and Mr. Buckley grinned.

"Okay; wealth. That's not the most selfless thing to build a life around, but at least you're being honest. Next? Miss Curtis?"

The pretty blonde girl had been slumping down in her seat at the back of the classroom in a clear bid to avoid being called on. Now she straightened up slightly, and hesitated a long moment before speaking.

"...Love?"

The teacher winced a little at that one, and gave her a sideways look.

"All right, love. Try not to believe everything you hear on the radio though, kids. Even though ninety percent of all the songs ever written are about being in love, I'd say less than ten percent of the people in this class will ever actually find real love... and that, unfortunately, includes me. Just ask the former Mrs. Buckley." The class laughed, and Harmony couldn't help smiling a little. "Next?"

This time someone volunteered without being called on.

"Power! I wanna rule the world!"

The speaker, a gawky boy named Rob Jacobs, was booed loudly.

Mr. Buckley only nodded.

"Power. Sure, that's the most important thing to a lot of people. Usually not very _nice_ people, and most of them are doing things like running drug rings, or lording it over some neighborhood in Somalia with the help of ten-year old boys carrying AK-47's, but all right, if power is what floats your boat then... more power to you. Miss Summers?"

Harmony turned her head and looked at Buffy. Willow wasn't sitting beside her; the red-haired girl had a lot of advanced classes where she learned how to talk to supercomputers or whatever, and was off doing that instead. This period it was the blonde's other sidekick, Xander Harris, who was fawning all over the girl. Not that fawning sidekicks were a bad thing, really. After all, Harmony herself filled that slot with Cordelia, or at least she had up until now. Maybe it was time to reconsider that as a career choice....

"Duty," Buffy said, her voice firm and sure. "The most important thing is duty." She paused, and nibbled her lip, and then went on with a little less conviction. "Although that love thing that Nancy said earlier is right up there, too. Okay, maybe it's love that's most important, but only if it doesn't mess with the duty. Actually, it's important that duty understands its place, and that it doesn't make things too hard for love, otherwise it causes too many problems, and certain people get extremely cranky about the duty part not being dealt with promptly enough, which leads to--"

"_Thank_ you, Miss Summers. Mr. Harris?"

The boy had been occupied with staring at Buffy, apparently trying to decipher that rambling and confused glimpse into her thought processes.

"Ah, most definitely humor." He nodded sagely, then froze, and looked hastily at Buffy before rushing on. "Not that I'm saying what you said was humor, or in any way funny, Buff, 'cause it wasn't... except in that lovably scattered, infinitely adorable way you have about you." She was glaring at him now, and his nervousness increased by a factor of ten or so. "Not that I adore you, per se... all right, I do adore you, if only in a perfectly platonic, friend-type fashion. Getting back to the topic, I meant that for me, humor is what's most definitely important... in the way that it gets me through difficult situations. Except for this one." He sat back in his desk and hid his face in his hands. Buffy punched him in the shoulder in what looked like a playful way, only Xander grunted at the impact, and continued to make quiet, pained moans for several more minutes. Mr. Buckly shook his head, smiling, and scanned the rows of desks once more.

"All right, anyone else... Miss Kendall?"

He sounded surprised, as well he should. Endless repetition had finally convinced Harmony that whenever she _thought_ she had something to add to a classroom discussion, it would inevitably turn out to be something that would end up embarrassing her. Some teachers were more patient with her scatterbrained babbling than others, but the students were usually less kind.

Now, though, she felt like she might manage to speak up without sounding completely retarded.

"Beauty," she said, her soft voice nevertheless carrying clearly throughout the room. "The most important thing is beauty."

Several girls giggled from sheer force of habit, knowing that anything Harmony said in class just had to be ridiculous. Even Mr. Buckly smiled at her, though in his case it was tempered with a lingering uneasiness... and an almost imperceptible hint of desire.

"Ah, Harmony--I mean, Miss Kendall," he cleared his throat, smiled again, and then went on in an extremely patronizing tone. "I'm not sure that 'beauty' in the sense you mean is really something that really fits the discussion. You can't think that your fashion magazines, with their dating advice, and new shoe styles, and make-up tips.... You can't think that those are even in the same ballpark as something like the book we're discussing?"

She gave him a dark look, and waited until his smile faded away before answering.

"I didn't say magazines were literary masterpieces; I didn't bring them up at all. You did." When he nodded in acknowledgement, she took a deep breath, then continued.

"You asked for what mattered to us. You're looking for concepts that hold power, for us. Beauty is one of those, and in some ways it's the most powerful one there is."

"Oh come on!" Marc Inman exclaimed loudly. "I'd rather be rich than good-looking any day!" Harmony eyed him for a moment, then shrugged.

"Maybe so, but what are you going to do with all that money? Buy a big house? I'll bet it's going to be beautiful, and not some ugly little shack somewhere. Are you going to marry the girl of your dreams? She's going to be beautiful, then, because that's what dreams are all about." He had no ready answer for that. Then, on the other side of the room, Rob spoke up again.

"Power is better than beauty; lots better. If I'm in charge of things then I can get all the hot girls I want."

She nodded, then cocked her head and looked at him thoughtfully.

"I suppose so... but what are the odds of you ever getting real power? It usually doesn't just fall into your lap you know, not unless you're born super-rich, or into a family filled with governors and ex-presidents. You aren't going to get all those hot girls, Rob. The hot girls, on the other hand, have a much better chance of getting what _they_ want." She turned around to face Mr. Buckley once more. "Beauty _is_ power. Pretty people tend to get what they want, at least more often than ugly people do. And when they do get it, it comes more easily for them because they are pretty." She nodded back at Marc. "Beauty can make you rich, all by itself. Just look at the supermodels in those dumb fashion magazines you were laughing at before. Beautiful people get to be famous, too, even if all they can do is act, badly, or lip-sync, badly, or walk up and down a catwalk wearing expensive clothes."

Mr. Buckley was shaking his head and frowning, though part of it had to be from being suddenly faced with the new and improved Harmony.

"That doesn't follow," he told her sternly. "If what you're saying were true, then _every_ rich, or powerful, or famous person in the world would be physically attractive, and that is obviously not the case."

Now it was her turn to shake her head.

"No, what _you're_ saying doesn't follow. Just because every single person in those categories doesn't fit my theory doesn't mean it never happens. It does happen, it happens a _lot_. How many butt-ugly actors and actresses are there, compared to the pretty ones? How many new musicians get signed if they're ugly, compared to the Britney's, or Christina's, or Beyonce's? Even the guys are usually good-looking, unless they're punks, or rappers, or heavy metal, or something like that where it's considered cool to be rough-looking instead." He started to interrupt her again, only she wasn't quite finished. "And it even goes the other way, too, with all those non-attractive people you were talking about. If someone is rich, or famous, or powerful, they try to own things that are beautiful, and people that are beautiful, too. Ever notice how rich, older men always end up with gorgeous younger women? Or how rock stars marry the most beautiful women on the planet? That isn't because they couldn't find any plain girls that were sweet, and nice, and perfectly willing to do anything to be with them. No, it's because if you can have anything at all, then what you _choose_ to have... is beauty."

Mr. Buckley stared at her. So did everyone else in the class, some with confusion, some with distaste, and a few with something like awe.

"That... is a pretty disturbing picture you're painting there, Ms. Kendall," the teacher said. "Well-argued, I suppose, but all the same-"

The bell rang, cutting him off in mid-sentence.

"All right, guys, that's all for now. Have a nice weekend, and I'll see you on Monday."

He retreated behind his desk as Harmony stood, almost as if he were afraid to be in close proximity to her. She smiled at him to show she was harmless, and he flushed again, looking down and paying entirely too much attention to straightening papers on his desk until she turned away. She felt good. It was wonderful, being able to argue with someone without being laughed at. With a gleeful toss of her hair she walked outside down the side of the room and out to the hall, only to be accosted right outside the doorway by the last person she'd have expected to be lying in wait.

"Okay, what the hell was _that_?" Xander demanded.

* * * * *

Harmony blinked, momentarily taken aback by the sudden attack.

"What was what?" she asked. Buffy was standing behind Xander, looking as puzzled by his behavior as Harmony felt. The boy didn't notice, caught up as he was with some inexplicable anger.

"You. That. What you said in there." He was glaring at her, seeming almost affronted that he was talking with her at all, regardless of the fact that he was the one who had instigated the conversation. "Do you really think that because you're pretty, that all the boys are going to fall drooling at your feet?"

_Yes._

"No, that's not what I said, dufus," she said out loud. "All I said was that Beauty was an important thing, more important than most people are willing to admit. That's all. Now please get out of my way, I need to get my chemistry book out of my locker--"

"Oh, and I suppose I should jump out of your way, because I'm a slave to your _beauty_, huh?" He didn't get out of her way; in fact, he actually sidestepped when she tried to go around him, to block her path again. "Guess what? I'm not movin'. You want to know why? Because this man makes his own decisions about what he does, and beauty doesn't figure into it at all. Because it doesn't matter what someone looks like, if they're evil, and trying to hurt your best friend, even if you like this evil person a _lot_, and they're the prettiest girl who's ever shown any kind of real--"

At this point Buffy put her hand on his shoulder, her face shadowed with concern.

"Xand, is this about Ampata? Because, um," She gestured at Harmony with her eyes, and at the several other students within earshot who were observing the proceedings with interest. "You know, not exactly something we should be discussing with everyone, you know?"

He shrugged her hand away.

"No, it isn't about her. It's about _her_," he gestured angrily at Harmony, who had watched the exchange with steadily fading patience. "Her, with her entire thesis statement in there about how people are so shallow that nothing else matters, not love, or, or friendship, or... love! Nope, none of that is worth a hill of beans, because ol' Xander is going to get yanked around by the first pretty girl who shows up and starts sucking the life out of--!"

"Xander!"

Buffy's exclamation cut him off, and Harmony, not caring about whatever their interpersonal drama might entail, tried to slip around him and out into the hall, only to have him block her again.

"What's the matter, princess?" he asked, in something that was very nearly a sneer. "Need to go fix your makeup before everyone sees what a ugly piece of work you are underneath it all?"

Harmony froze, then fixed the full force of her stare on the young man before her. Until that point she had only been annoyed. Now she was angry.

"Listen, you little flea. You want me to say that I was wrong? Well, I wasn't, and the proof is standing right there beside you." She pointed to Buffy, who raised both eyebrows in surprise. "You've had it bad for Buffy since day one. The second you saw her you fell in lust with her; it wasn't love, not when you barely knew her at all, it was lust. And you didn't care at all about how it hurt plain little Willow, your best friend since you were both in the womb, oh no. Sure, she's been in love with you forever, so what? That doesn't matter at all when the new girl shows up with her blonde hair, and cute face, and curvy body, does it?" She smiled viciously at him, enjoying the way his face darkened as he sputtered, trying to find his words. "Nope, it doesn't matter. Because as sweet as Willow is, she's awfully skinny, isn't she? Not curvy, and not sexy, and not mysterious. And she's also not nearly as, oh, what's the word? Ah. Not nearly as _beautiful_ as Buffy is. So you ignore her, and chase after the new girl. Only guess what? She turns you down! Want to know why?" Harmony glanced at the blonde girl, a smile of complete understanding on her face. She didn't have anything against Buffy, not at all.

"The reason she never gave you a second look, Xander, is that she found someone she liked better; Angel. And by some amazing coincidence he happens to be taller than you, and buffer than you, and way, way more handsome than you... in a weird, broody sort of way."

Buffy was looking defensive, like she had been forced to justify her relationship more than a few times before.

"It's not that he's more handsome," she protested. "There's much more to it than him being tall, and having muscles, and being all beauty--I mean broody!"

Harmony nodded sympathetically.

"I'm not saying there isn't. All I'm saying is that he's a totally yummy biscuit, and switching from that to Xander here would be a massive downgrade."

Xander himself finally managed to find his tongue.

"None of that.... Me and Buffy aren't even close to being the same...." He refocused his glare on her, and started over. "I was only trying to--" Harmony cut off his fumbling attempts at regaining his footing.

"You're an ass, Xander. I remember Ampata, now. That foreign exchange girl about a month ago? The extremely _pretty_ one? Well, there you went again, ignoring the person you should have been with and running off after the cute girl about which you know nothing, except that she's attractive, and giggles at your lame jokes. And then when she dumped you at that dance and took off back to Peru or wherever, you expect everyone to feel _sorry_ for you?" She shook her head sadly. "If I were a girl, and a boy I'd been crushing on all my life kept doing that to me over and over, I wouldn't feel sorry for him. I'd hate him." She cocked her head to the side, and twirled a strand of gleaming hair around her fingers. "I wonder how Willow really feels about all that, deep down inside. Do you ever wonder how she feels about that, Xander?"

The boy in question had the look of someone who had been poleaxed, and Harmony smiled in satisfaction as she stepped around him at last.

"And now that we've cleared up that little misunderstanding, I've got to get to chemistry class. Without my textbook, by the way, thank you so much."

The two of them were murmuring to each other as she hurried away, but she didn't bother to try and overhear. What really had her attention was that at the end there, she'd seen Bryan walk past at the far end of the hall. He had paused, looked straight at her, and then walked on. Harmony wasn't at all sure she wanted to see him, much less talk with him, but she strode quickly down to the intersection where she'd spotted him anyway.

When she got there and looked around the corner he was nowhere in sight, which effectively solved the problem of what to say to him, at least for now. The bell rang, and she trotted off towards the chemlab, wondering in passing what exactly Xander's problem with that Ampata girl had really been.

* * * * *

Mr. Gruenwald wasn't very happy to see her coming into class late, and it was worse than it usually would have been, since Cordelia was her usual partner for chemistry. Not so today; her friend was sitting at a work station with Jill Thompson, and her gaze was definitely on the cool side when she looked at Harmony. She hesitated for a moment, wondering where to go; it wasn't like anyone else ever wanted her oh-so-brilliant mind on their team when doing experiments. Only today it was suddenly different, and she found herself looking from side to side as not one, not two, but three different boys tried to wave her over to where they were sitting.

_Oooh; neat!_

The cuteness of the boys involved varied a bit, though all were easily of what she would consider datable level. Given that, she opted for Cody Owens. He wasn't the most handsome of the three, but he _was_ the smartest. With her as a lab partner he would need every advantage he could get, because she sure wasn't going to be able to contribute much besides moral support.

When she got to the work station she set down her book bag and perched herself on the cushioned stools that were standard in the lab, instead of normal seats. Given her too-short skirt, that made modesty a bit of a problem. She ended up crossing one leg over the other, which worked well enough, so long as she was careful how she sat. It _did_ show her legs to amazing advantage, not that Cody seemed to mind. In fact, she had to say his name three times before he managed to pull his eyes away from her thighs and look her in the eye.

"Thanks," she whispered to him, underneath the noise of Mr. Gruenwald discussing last week's assignment. He smiled back at her, a little nervously.

"No problem. I've always dreamed of mixing stinky chemicals with someone who looked exactly like you."

Harmony grinned impishly.

"Aww! That's so sweet!"

Up at the front of the class, Mr. Gruenwald was going over the procedure they would be doing.

"--Objective is to explain the constant boiling point of compounds, versus the uncertainty present in the boiling point of mixtures. Now, we will be plotting both on a time/temperature graph, in order to illustrate the--"

She let his voice fade to a background drone as she surveyed the equipment on the table in front of them. Bunsen burner, beakers, timer, thermometer, a ring and stand to hold the beaker over the burner, containers of distilled water and alcohol, and the various chemicals they would be mixing... it was all much more interesting than any of her other classes so far that day had been. Harmony looked down at the sheet they'd been given which detailed the mixtures and compounds they had to test... and with a sigh she pulled her hand away from where it had been languidly stroking back and forth across her midriff, to Cody's considerable distraction. He gave a guilty start, shot her an apologetic smile, and got to work. It was obvious that he didn't expect her to actually do anything, except perhaps to record the results (provided he got to double-check them). What surprised them both was the degree to which he was wrong.

Harmony knew how to do this! Measuring, and mixing, and analyzing the results... it felt perfectly natural to her. Her hands moved so fluidly and quickly that it was Cody who was relegated to writing down their findings, and there were two instances where she had to correct _him_ when he entered a number incorrectly.

(Given that he had been distracted by the way she had been absently weaving a small bit of her hair into a braid, one-handed and without looking, she was inclined to forgive him.)

More important was that she had done this before, or something near enough that it made no difference. It was those memories that Harmony concentrated on as her eyes and hands completed their tasks with little need for her to even think about what they were doing. She followed the recollections into the depths of Amora's past, found what she was looking for, and considered her options. Not that there was any real doubt that she would do it, of course. It would be so easy, and although selfishness was her comfort zone in many ways, an occasional kindness could be oddly... refreshing.

When the class was over, she murmured a soft thank-you to Cody which made him smile, and gave him a kiss on the cheek that made him stare after her, looking slightly dazed. Harmony paid him no mind; she was intent on reaching Cordelia before the girl swept out of the room.

"Cordy, hi!"

The attractive girl brushed back her pure white mane and turned with visible reluctance to face her.

"Oh, Harmony. What?"

Obviously the girl had been serious about not taking chances that Harmony's shame would rub off on her. Smiling brightly, the blonde stepped in close as she bubbled onwards.

"I was just wondering? That thing you said this morning, about 'givingness' being a responsibility for a cheerleader? You meant that, right?" Her hand had drifted to Cordelia's elbow, a gesture that the old, needy Harmony had performed countless times before, in seeking reassurance from her Zen master of popularity. That master wasn't having any today; she pulled back impatiently, her pretty face marred by an irritated frown.

"Well, duh!" she all but snapped back. "We have to help those less fortunate than us. The stinky people, and the fashion-challenged...." She then made a point of looking directly at Harmony. "And especially the chronically dumb and unpopular; those need help most of all, even if there's occasionally a random spike of popularness that can't be explained."

Harmony nodded in agreement, as was expected when Cordelia said anything, even thinly-veiled insults.

"That's what I thought you'd say. Well, then, thanks for your contribution to the cause!"

She went back to collect her bag, and when she got there she tucked the small piece of silk from Cordelia's blouse in among her other things. Her nails weren't all that sharp, but with the strength in her fingers and a nimble little grip and twist, the other girl had never felt the fabric being torn away.

Now, all she needed was a few more ingredients. She had a free period now, before lunch, which should be plenty of time to make what she had in mind.

* * * * *

Harmony edged into the bathroom cautiously. For all she knew, Aspen might be lurking in there again, ready to pounce, and this time Angela wasn't around to save her. She was in luck; although there were several girls present, neither Aspen nor either of her friends were among them. A good thing, too; it had been a solid hour since she'd looked in a mirror, and she was starting to get a little twitchy.

Besides, the decorative planters that lined the edges of the sink counter had various nice-smelling plants growing in them, one of which she needed to complete her recipe.

"Harmony!"

She froze, purse open and powder brush halfway to her cheek. Glancing to the side, she saw Fawn smiling at her in a seemingly genuine way.

"Fawn, hi."

The other girl stepped up to her, looking happy to have been acknowledged.

"I just wanted to tell you that you were awesome in Mr. Buckley's class. The way you told him off... that was the neatest thing I've ever seen!" Her eyes were practically shining, and Harmony felt almost uncomfortable.

"I wasn't trying to tell him off. I was only trying to explain what I thought, and he wanted to twist it around or something."

Fawn nodded excitedly, actually bouncing up and down a little as she did so.

"Yeah, exactly! And you didn't let him get away with it!" Behind the girl, two of the others were nodding in agreement, and one of them, Kiara, added:

"Then there was that total dweeb, Xander Harris, afterwards! We saw that, where he tried to jump down his throat, and you tore him to shreds!" Fawn giggled happily at that.

"Xander thinks he's so funny, and so smart! He isn't! He's an ass, just like you said!"

Feeling a little dazed herself, now, Harmony turned back to the mirror and went to work with the powder brush, repairing a tiny smudge that had materialized at some point during chemistry. As she worked, she felt a familiar tug at her hair, and saw that Kiara had reached out, almost timidly, to lightly touch that heavy fall of gold. Seeing Harmony's look, she pulled her hand back, reluctantly.

"Sorry. It's just so beautiful today. Did you get some new, space-age conditioner for it or something?"

Harmony nodded.

"Something like that. Sort of a super-repair formula; it worked really well."

Fawn reached out to see for herself, then paused.

"Do you mind, if I...?"

Caught halfway between a longsuffering sigh and some smug preening, Harmony took a moment to set down her makeup. Running both of her own hands through the shimmering strands, she wove her fingers through a brief pattern, and murmured three words, too quietly for the other girls to make out. Then she nodded her permission. Fawn trailed her hand slowly along those silken tresses, marveling at how the strands flowed through her fingers like shimmering water. Kiara, even though she'd already had her turn, joined her, and together they played with Harmony's hair for a long minute, unable to believe how healthy and shiny it had become, practically overnight.

For her part, Harmony wondered if she would have to keep a tactile illusion, like the one she had just added, on her hair from now on. It disguised the extra, invisible length, keeping anyone from being able to feel the extra foot and a half of hair, even as it ran through their hands. She hadn't bothered with the extra layer of illusion that morning, but then she hadn't counted on how her hair would act like a magnet for curious hands, either.

Also, at about that time, she found that the sensation of two people stroking and petting her hair was enough to trigger desires and longings that she was still a long way from being comfortable feeling. Doing her best to keep her breathing under control, and her hands off of herself, she gently retrieved the golden mane from her two admirers.

"I've got to go," she told them. "There's some... extra-credit chemistry I need to get done before lunch."

"Oh, that's fine," Fawn assured her. "Maybe we'll get to talk more then!"

"Maybe," Harmony allowed. She gathered up her things, paused to break off a single leaf from one of the plants beside the sink, and then headed back to the lab. It would be empty now, and she needed a little peace and quiet in order to complete her project.

* * * * *

Gathering the various ingredients had been the hard part, and even that had taken only a few minutes. A bit of apple, provided by a friendly boy she'd spotted eating an early lunch in the second-floor student lounge. A dash of sea salt, from a cafeteria that occasionally suffered from delusions of grandeur. The bit of silk from Cordelia's very expensive (and now ruined) blouse, and the Aloe leaf from the bathroom flower box. Now, sitting at the same workstation that she and Cody had used last period, she poured some purified water into a bowl.

Of course what mortals called 'pure' water was anything but pure, so she spent a moment attending to that herself.

Cupping her hands around the beaker, she whispered to the water within, commanding it to shed any impurities, be they physical or mystical. A shimmering, emerald glow grew to fill the space between her palms, and flickering, infinitesimal particles of darkness rose from the surface of the liquid, hovered for a moment, and then faded away. She banished her light, took up the bit of creame-colored silk, and began in invocation. Few chemists would have believed that the material could be rendered liquid with a few soft words, and the tracing of an ancient glyph, yet she managed it in exactly that manner. Over the next few minutes the other ingredients followed suit, blending with each other in response to the lightest caress of her magicks.

Harmony smiled, watching as each step of the formulation proceeded without mishap. It was this that she'd remembered while performing the experiment earlier. Amora's magical repertoire was not limited to spells and enchantments; Alchemy, too, was something in which she had considerable expertise. Given time, and some admittedly rare and dangerous materials, she could have created truly wondrous things. What she was doing now, on the other hand, was hardly more than a child's exercise.

Although she had to admit that she was looking forward to seeing the results.

When the last of the ingredients had been melded into one, and the compound was beginning to take on a faint, silvery hue, she stretched forth one finger. Dipping it into the liquid, she chanted the simple words that would complete the charm.

_"Apple and Aloe, and Sea-Salt brine._

Grant a perfection, soft echo of mine."

A faint sound floated through the room, as if a crystal were singing, and when it had faded to silence she pulled her finger from the beaker. Bringing it to her lips, she touched her nail to the tip of her tongue, and considered the result thoughtfully.

"Perfect," she announced to the empty room, smiling with satisfaction. Carefully then she decanted the liquid into a largish test tube, holding it up to the light and watching as it slowly turned from liquid to gel. The silvery hue was still present, and from certain angles it almost seemed to glow with an inner light. Putting a stopper firmly in place to seal the container, Harmony slipped it into her bag. It was almost time for lunch, and she found that she was unbelievably hungry.

* * * * *

Someone touching her hair without asking first was one thing; that she could forgive. Someone grabbing hold of her ass, however, was _not_ something that was done without her permission.

"Hey there, baby. Been putting in some _serious_ time with the thighmaster, huh? I like it!"

Bryan.

She tried to step back, to gain time to think of what she wanted to say to him. He didn't let her. The one hand on her backside was joined by the other, and both of them squeezed her fuller, firmer ass appreciatively. His grin managed to be both stupid and obnoxious, all at once, and she glared at him angrily.

"Bryan, we need to talk about what you did yesterday. I heard what you told your friends, and you should know that it hurt me that you would--"

He cut her off with a kiss, forcing his tongue into her mouth when she would have been disgusted enough with something entirely chaste. When he pulled away, she was hard-pressed not to spit in his face.

"Sorry, babe," he told her, false earnestness plastered over his blandly handsome features. "You weren't supposed to find out about that, but it didn't mean anything. That was just, you know, guy talk."

She stared at him, incredulous.

"'Guy talk'?"

He nodded.

"Yeah. We all talk about our girls like that, around each other. It's like, 'my bitch went and did this,' or 'that ho of mine is so damn fine'. It doesn't mean that I don't care about you, babe; I do."

The icy fury that Harmony felt was only partly hers. Much of it came from that part of her now occupied by a proud and powerful Goddess, and that part did not suffer fools gladly.

"You have a strange way of showing your affection," she told him, uttering the words with cold precision. "What I heard from your lips was nothing short of cruel mockery. And I care not if others speak of their women so, you will _not_ treat me with disrespect."

He grinned at her again, wider this time, as if she'd said something amusing.

"Whoa, somebody must have gotten some educational tapes for her birthday, or else some of those smart-pills I saw on that infomercial." He squeezed her backside again, hard enough to bruise, if she had still been merely human. "Don't go overboard with that stuff, 'kay? I like you just the way you are, all sweet and ditzy."

Harmony's anger, the Enchantress's anger, grew bitter.

"Sweet and stupid, you mean." His face went blank, as he tried to follow her strange new behavior, and she nodded to herself. "I have been stupid, or I would never have let you touch me. Well, that changes now." She looked around, noting the few students within view that were paying any attention to them. She would have to be careful.

"Look, Harm, all I'm asking is for you to give me another chance. It isn't like it really matters what anybody else thinks of you anyway, right? And I just can't believe this body of yours!" One hand stayed glued to her behind, while the other groped its way up along her hip, to her waist, and towards her breasts. "Whatever miracle workout thing you're doing, don't stop! Tell you what, why don't we go down in the basement right now, and you can--"

"Shh," she told him, her hand stopping his a few inches short of her breast. Her other hand rose between them, and her fingers floated through a graceful dance before his eyes.

He laughed, looking from her hand to her face and back again.

"Okay, what the fuck is--"

"Shh," she told him again, concentrating. It was such a tiny mind that capturing it was proving to be quite difficult. The faint, sparkling trails of light trailing from her nails wove a net that entangled his thoughts, and bound his will to hers. His face froze, and she nodded in satisfaction, lowering her hand and leaning close.

"Look into my eyes, 'babe'. Fall into me... lose yourself in me...."

There, she had him. It was as she had thought. Behind his crude, loud exterior, Bryan was a crude, loud, infantile thing. Not harmlessly childish as she had been before her transformation, either. No, this was a child who was cruel, and quick to anger. Who hurt things for the simple joy of watching them suffer, and who felt pleasure at his power to harm others. He really did deserve everything she was going to do to him.

"We went into the basement, and we had the most amazing sex of your entire life," she told him softly. "When you tell your friends about it, you will speak of me with respect, as befits a woman who has shared herself with you. Do you understand?"

He stared into her eyes, blankly, and his slack lips struggled to form words.

"My girlfriend is so fuckin' hot... that bitch did things to me you wouldn't believe...."

Harmony squinted at him, then sighed.

"Close enough. Now, you're worn out from what we did, so you won't bother me any more today. If you see me, you'll smile, and say hi, and move on, because you can't handle any more of what I gave you until later tonight, understand?"

He nodded dully.

"I'm gonna hit dat again tonight, yo. Better believe it," he mumbled.

"Okaaaay. Um." She thought about it, shrugged, and raised both hands, placing them on his chest. "Oh, also; don't touch my ass again. Ever." He made a faint, disappointed whine, which she ignored. "Last thing? This." A quick look around showed that no one was close enough to see what she was doing, especially since Bryan's body was pressed so close to her, and blocking their view. She looked back into his eyes, gathered all the power she could reach, and then shoved it through her hands and into his chest.

"As within, so without," she whispered fiercely, shuddering with the strain of the spell. The power washed down her arms in a wave, crashing into Bryan like a tsunami... and nothing changed. He shuddered for a moment, as if chilled, and then... nothing.

Harmony nodded. She hadn't expected it to fully take the first time, not with her powers reduced, and adversely affected by the strangeness of this place.

"Come to my house tonight, late," she told him. Then she passed her hand across his eyes. With a jerk he released her, awareness flooding back into his face. A long moment passed with his eyes wandering vaguely around the hallway, as if he were unsure of where he was. Then he saw her, and grinned, and made a show of adjusting his belt buckle, and checking that his fly was zipped.

"You're amazing, babe," he told her. "Good thing practice is cancelled 'cause of the grieving and all, or else I wouldn't make it."

She smiled, thinly.

"Just be sure to come over tonight, and you'll get more of the same."

His grin widened.

"I can't wait. Se ya later." He walked past her, slapping her ass as he passed. She jumped, and glared after him, then rubbed her butt cheek and shook her head. It would obviously take more than one session to train his mind, too, but even a stupid dog could be taught new tricks, eventually.

* * * * *

One good thing about the frequent student deaths; it kept the cafeteria from being overcrowded.

Harmony surveyed the large room as she stood in line with her food tray, noting the new empty spaces. She didn't know which of the students, if any, had been dressed up as monsters that she herself had killed last night, and she didn't especially want to know, either. As powerful as she was, Amora had never possessed the ability to raise the dead... at least, not in way that would make anyone happy about the results. No, better to move on, and let sleeping corpses lie. She turned her attention instead to the food being offered.

Usually she would content herself with a salad, sometimes a piece of fruit. Even then, the stubborn pounds clung to her waist, thighs and backside with an unbreakable grip. Now, both slimmer and curvier than she'd ever been in her life, she was in the mood to live it up just a little.

_I'll have to watch it, though,_ she warned herself. _Amora was a serious couch potato, and even with a revved-up Asgardian metabolism, I'll start to gain weight in a hurry if I'm not careful. Unless she had...._" She stood there, dumbfounded, as she cast back through those memories and found something amazing.

Amazing, and wonderful.

_Spells. Holy-poop-oh-my-god-I-can't-believe-this! She's got_ spells _to magick away fat if she gains any weight! _

That put an entirely different face on things, and she smiled broadly at the sullen lunch lady who was serving up the food.

"More, please," she asked sweetly, and then pointed. "And could I have some of that, and some pie, also. Actually, could I have pie _and_ a piece of cherry-cheese cake?" The woman glared at her, taking in her slim, flawless form, doubtless comparing it to her own doughy body. Harmony felt a twinge of sympathy for her, though that was nothing compared to how hungry she felt. That single bran muffin had been hours and hours ago, and she'd seriously underestimated what this new body needed to fuel it.

Besides, she'd been dieting forever, and being free of that was enough to make her want to dance a happy victory dance.

After paying for her food, she took her tray and walked out among the groupings of tables and chairs. The cheerleader's zone was of course off-limits to her, though she couldn't help a brief, longing look in that direction. Cordelia was watching her, a warning look in her eyes. Beside her, Aphrodesia and Cassie looked more or less as they usually did, although a little tired and worn. Neither of them had anything like Cordelia's snow-white hair to mark their adventures from last night. Anna was there too, though she sat a bit apart from the others. There was something strange about the way she was dressed, with her long coat pulled tight around her body, and a pair of someone else's oversized gloves on her hands. She wasn't even trying to eat, she just sat there, staring off at nothing, flinching a little whenever someone passed too close. Kelsey, of course, wasn't there, and Harmony felt a little stab of guilt at having gone most of the day without giving the girl a thought.

_I'll call her_, Harmony told herself again. _As soon as I get a chance, I'll call her, and let her know I'm thinking of her._

Still wondering where she would sit, she drifted on a few steps further, turning her head from side to side and hoping she didn't look too lost. She'd always sat with Cordy, always, ever since grade school. Having that taken away was more of a loss than she'd expected it would--

"Harmony! Over here!"

It was Fawn, waving at her from a table a little further down. Kiara was sitting with her, along with Cody, and another boy she only knew by sight, not by name. Smiling with relief, she made her way over and sat down in the chair that Fawn held out for her.

"Thanks," she told the girl, and smiled at the others. All of them seemed happy to see her, which was certainly welcome. She'd been afraid that she really would be a social leper, at least until the gossip about her and Bryan died down.

"I was just telling Trent, here, about chemistry class," Cody told her, leaning forward and speaking in a conspiratorial tone. "I didn't have any idea you were that comfortable around test tubes and bunsen burners."

"I used to play with different things when I was younger," she told him, sipping at her fruit juice. "You know, mixing up love potions and stuff, to help me enslave people into being my helpless minions." She grinned, and added a lie. "It was all pretend, obviously. I had fun with it though."

"It must have worked," growled the other boy, Trent, with a playfully angry punch at his friend. "I'm late for school one day, and suddenly I get the boot, because my lab partner here says he found someone better." He eyed her approvingly, and gained some points from Harmony by managing to not stare overlong at her breasts. "I can't say that he's wrong, though, especially if you can actually, you know, do chemistry. At all." He sighed longingly, and broke into a grin. "If it were me, I wouldn't care if you couldn't do anything, but then I'm easily led."

They all laughed, and Harmony apologized.

"Sorry, I didn't know I was taking your spot. Cody was very nice, letting me pair up with him like that."

The others fell into conversation, and Harmony was content to mostly listen, especially as she was busy eating as quickly as possible. It was _so_ good to actually eat food for lunch, and not just fruit and salad. She was finishing her slice of pumpkin pie and eyeing the cherry-cheesecake hungrily when Kiara touched her shyly on the shoulder.

"Harmony, would you mind...." She flushed, embarrassed, and spread her hands helplessly. "Could I please maybe, um, put a braid in your hair?"

The young Goddess stopped in mid-bite, and looked at the other girl. There didn't seem to be any falseness in those questioning eyes, nor any sort of overt lust. Nodding slowly, Harmony put down her fork, and spent a moment sorting out a small section of her hair, from up near the front, where the tresses were 'only' waist-length. The visual and tactile illusions weren't doing anything underhanded with that area, so it would be safe for the girl to handle.

As Kiara happily began working, Harmony picked up her fork and resumed eating. She hadn't slowed down at all from when she'd started, and the contents of her plate were being rapidly decimated. Both Cody and Trent were watching her, and looking a little puzzled, though it was Fawn whose eyes were widest.

"Aren't you scared you'll gain weight?" she asked, sounding concerned. "You're so beautiful, you don't want to get fat, do you?"

Harmony shook her head, and chewed for a moment to clear her mouth.

"No, being fat is awful. It's just that I...." She shrugged, dismissing the need for a convoluted lie when a mere exaggeration would serve. "I didn't get much breakfast this morning, and this new exercise system I'm on lets me eat one big meal a day. So I figured 'heck with it', time to live a little." They nodded, accepting that, and she looked at her plate mournfully. "Truthfully, I could really go for another slice of that pie. I wonder if--"

"I'll get it for you!" Fawn told her, jumping up from her seat. "Stay right there, don't move, I'll be right back!"

She hurried off to where the sullen lunch lady still stood, and Harmony watched her go as she slowly finished her cake.

_Wow, is this what it's like to really be popular?_

She looked around the table, first at the two cute, attentive boys who were talking with her like she actually had a brain as well as a body, and then at where Kiara sat next to her, weaving a series of small braids into her hair as if it were the most important thing in the world, and then over to where Fawn was coming back with some food, looking happy as could be that she had been allowed to perform the task. Taking another bite of cake, Harmony felt a thrum of contentment flow through her, and if she could have purred aloud then she would have done it.

_This is... nice. They're all very, very... nice. And I won't be mean to them, either. There's no reason to be mean, just because they're not what I am._

She thanked Fawn, and smiled at the way it made the girl's face light up with delight. Cody made gentle fun of her, asking if Fawn would please go and get him a bag of potato chips, and then Trent and Kiara joined in. Fawn laughed back, and dug a piece of paper out of her backpack, and started taking everyone's order, laughing even harder when it devolved into what kind of toppings they wanted on their pizzas.

It was then that Harmony caught sight of someone lurking over in the nearest doorway, the one that led to the hallway, and the front entrance. The dark figure there was familiar, and she knew it was watching her. Raising one hand, she made a slight gesture, beckoning Angela closer. The girl hesitated, took a small step back, and then stopped when Harmony gestured again.

There was no magic involved, there didn't need to be. The tall girl slowly drifted over, until she was standing beside the table.

"Guys," Harmony told the others. "Earlier I was in the bathroom, and Aspen came in with two other little she-weasels and tried to jump me. I was too much of a girly-girl to fight them, but Angela showed up in the nick of time and saved me."

Everyone had something to say about _that_, both anger at Aspen's attack, and praise for Angela.

"That's outstanding," Cody told her. "Don't you do gymnastics, or martial arts or something? I heard that from somebody."

Angela shrugged, her hands stuffed into the depths of her voluminous pants, her face mostly obscured by the hair hanging over it as she stared at the ground.

"I do both, a little," she mumbled. "Some rock-climbing too, whenever my dad is in town, and my mom lets me go."

Harmony nudged Fawn gently, and motioned to an empty chair. The girl quickly got up and switched seats, and Harmony reached out and took hold of Angela's hand.

"Here, hang out with us for a minute, if you're not busy."

The light pressure she used wouldn't have pulled the goth girl into the chair if she hadn't wanted to go there, but she sat down, still staring at the floor, and the others started up a conversation centered on Aspen, and how bullies like that eventually got what was coming to them. Trent started telling a story about how some guy was once stupid enough to try shoving Buffy Summers out of the way, though by that time Harmony wasn't really listening. Leaning in close, she spoke very quietly.

"You ran off before I could thank you," she said, watching what she could see of Angela's face. "That was brave, what you did. There were three of them, and you don't even _know_ me."

The girl shrugged again.

"It seemed like the right thing to do," she said, so softly that it was nearly inaudible. Harmony smiled, and squeezed a little on the hand she was still holding.

"Of _course_ it was the right thing to do, you were saving _me_!" She giggled, and even the brooding girl sitting in front of her smiled slightly. A little tug from behind reminded her that Kiara was still busy with her braiding, and a glance showed that she was nearly through with number four. A stray wisp of memory told her that somewhere, somewhen, there had been a tray of hair clasps all in emeralds and gold, made especially for her, and intended to finish off braids like that. When she looked back at Angela, she caught the girl staring at her, a strange intensity in her dark eyes.

"What?" Harmony asked in a whisper. When she didn't answer, the blonde leaned in even closer, and whispered it again, more softly. "What?"

Angela shook her head mutely, and Harmony caught the faint odor of cigarettes clinging to her clothing and hair. Since she didn't really fit in with any of the lunchtime crowd, the girl was often seen sitting in the small park across the street at lunch time, smoking. The scent woke a small, unexpected craving, and Harmony smirked as she dismissed it. She had never smoked; it seemed a little cliché, somehow. Amora, however, had occasionally indulged, just as she indulged in every other vice ever created, so long as it was in some way pleasurable.

"I'm not going to let you go until you tell me," she told the girl, tightening her grip fractionally. "And I'll have you know that I'm very strong... for a girly-girl."

That got her another, tiny smile, though it flickered and faded almost before it was there.

"You won't believe this," Angela began uncertainly. Harmony had to stifle a laugh, lest she startle the girl.

"Oh, you'd be surprised at how much I'm willing to believe today."

Those dark eyes rose to hers, searching, and some decision was made.

"It's just that... I think I _dreamed_ of you. Last night, while I was passed out. I remember someone, and it was you, only not you...." She looked away, embarrassed, and then tugged lightly at her trapped hand. "There, that's why I stopped that bitch Aspen, earlier. Because I'd had a dream where I did stuff like that, and it seemed like the right thing to do it again."

Harmony stared at her, genuinely stunned, and then let go of the girl's hand. When Angela started to stand up and flee again, however, she didn't let her. Instead, she put both hands to the dark girl's head, and methodically gathered that raven-hued hair back into a ponytail. Holding it like that with one hand, she tilted the girl's face back so that the light fell on it more fully.

She nodded. It hadn't been obvious before, but the girl had beautifully-formed lips, and cheekbones that gave her features a faintly aristocratic cast.

Angela looked dreadfully confused, and Harmony gave her the most reassuring smile at her disposal.

"Well, hello again!" she told the dark-haired beauty softly. "Lara Croft, I presume?"

The girl's mouth moved silently, her eyes wide, and Harmony surprised both of them by leaning forward and kissing her lightly on those lovely lips. It lasted barely a second, though it did manage to stop all conversation at their table. When she pulled back, she gave a pleasant nod to the others, and they slowly resumed their discussion about bullies.

Angela, for her part, was looking at her like she'd never seen anything remotely like her before... which was correct of course, barring their brief time together the night before. Harmony patted the girl's hand gently.

"Sorry about that," she told her. "I'm sort of at a crossroads in a lot of ways, and sometimes my impulses get the better of me."

"That's okay, I don't mind," Angela said in a tiny voice, still sitting there as stiff as a board. Harmony nodded, and started to speak, and then noticed another lonely figure walking along the far side of the room, on her way to return her lunch tray.

"Listen, I need to talk to you later, okay? I think we're going to be wonderful friends, and besides that I could use a bodyguard. Interested?" Angela nodded, and Harmony stood. "Good. Now don't do that invisible thing of yours when I'm trying to find you." She looked at the others; Fawn, Kiara, Cody and Trent.

"Thanks, all of you, for being so nice to me today. I hope we can hang out later on?" They all nodded, Fawn and Kiara very enthusiastically. "Awesome. I hate to run out on you now, but there's someone over there I have to see. Bye!"

A chorus of farewells followed her as she grabbed up her bag and hurried across the lunchroom, her high heels clicking. She managed to catch Rachel before the girl reached the far exit, and touched her on the arm.

"Oh! Hi, Harmony. I didn't see you sitting over there." They both turned to look across at where the others were finishing up their meal, though Angela had already vanished. Harmony sighed, reflecting that of course the girl had seen her, she simply hadn't wanted to intrude. Given how her face affected most people, the girl wasn't often invited to join others while they were eating. The angry rash and wide swaths of yellow-topped pimples didn't exactly stimulate most people's appetites.

"You should have come over," she told the girl. "They're really nice." Rachel made a noncommittal sound, and edged towards the door.

"Maybe next time. Listen, I know it's not good for people to see you talking with me, so I'll get out of here. Should I look for you after school, or is Cordelia going to give you a ride, or maybe one of them...?" She looked unhappily at the far table, then back at Harmony. For her part, the blonde girl looked at that awful skin, and thought again about how terrible it had to be to live with that, especially in a place like high school, where appearance mattered so much. Like she'd said in class earlier, beauty mattered more than people were willing to admit. It mattered even when it shouldn't, such as when it determined whether or not anyone would even speak to a good and sweet and kind girl like this one. It was a fact of life, though, that some were blessed with beauty and some were cursed, as Rachel was cursed. Accept it, live with it, move on; that's all anyone could do.

Unless, perhaps, you happened to be acquainted with a Goddess.

Harmony reached down into her bag, and withdrew the glass tube of silvery gel she had made earlier. With a tiny smile she presented it to Rachel.

"Here. I know you've tried everything, but humor me and try this on your face tonight."

Rachel took the tube cautiously, and cracked the stopper enough to sniff at it. A wonderful smell came from it, of apples, and the sea, mixed together.

"What is it?" she asked, still looking at the contents. Fortunately, the faint glow wasn't visible in the bright lighting of the cafeteria.

"Call it a home remedy." Seeing the doubt on Rachel's face, Harmony reached for the tube. "Here, I'll put some on me, so you'll know I'm not playing some sick joke." Rachel pulled it back, and shook her head as she replaced the stopper.

"No, it's okay. I know you wouldn't do that. It's only...."

Harmony nodded her understanding.

"I know, but believe me, this is worth trying. There's enough there for three applications, so do one tonight, one Saturday night, and one Sunday. By the time you wake up on Monday, I think you'll be able to see a big change for the better."

Rachel looked at her, clasping the medicine to her chest with both hands.

"Thank you! But... why would you bother doing something like this for me?"

Harmony smiled at her, and, remembering what she'd said during Buckley's class, she decided to quote herself.

"'Because if you can have anything at all, then what you _choose_ to have... is beauty'."

* * * * *

Spike stared at the lesser vampire in astonishment, and stopped short of pushing the idiot's face through another bit of wall.

"Wait, a sec. Would you mind repeating that, only with less blood and vomit in your mouth this time around? This girl you saw, the one you thought was the Slayer. She did _what?!_"

* * * * *


	6. A few tests and some homework

"--Kinda basically just calling to see... I mean, to find out, um... how are you?"

Harmony winced a little, wishing she'd thought of a slightly less idiotic question to ask first thing.

"Hey, well, you know; things are fine and dandy here. Or at least that's what I'm told, since seeing for myself how things are isn't really an option for me right now."

Kelsey followed that with a little laugh, and even through the phone it sounded hollow and forced. Harmony winced again, and bit her lip for a moment before she found her voice.

"How long are they going to keep you there? Is there going to be surgery or something? Have the doctors said if the tests show what's going on?"

A quiet sigh echoed through the earpiece of the phone; Kelsey sounded heartbreakingly tired.

"No, they don't have any idea what it is, even after a million-kerbillion tests--during which they must have poked and probed and stuck every square inch of my body, by the way, and drained out a half-gallon of blood--so they're talking about letting me come home in the morning."

Harmony's eyes widened, although all she had to look at was the bulletin board in the teacher's lounge.

"Really? That soon?"

"Yeah. Whatever this is, it's not spreading anywhere else in my body, and it's not any kind of contagious disease, so they're kicking me out. I guess my parent's insurance can't afford to fly me to New Jersey or wherever so a team of doctors with super-ninja doctor skillz can diagnose and fix me. The guys here are just loading me up with antibiotics and hoping I'll get better." Kelsey gave another one of those horrible, hollow laughs. "Although I heard one of them telling my Dad that they should think about putting me in a class that teaches people how to 'adjust and cope' with being blind, so I don't think they're very hopeful that I'll get better."

Wondering if any of the doctors at Sunnydale General had thought to check for magical causes, Harmony did her best to sound positive and upbeat.

"I wouldn't give up yet, if I were you. Remember, Cordelia had that weird blindness thing last year, just like this, and it went away all on its own."

"That's true," Kelsey allowed, though she didn't sound very optimistic. "Listen, I've gotta go, the nurse is here and wants to take me to the bathroom before she goes on break."

Harmony thought it was more likely that the girl was tired of hearing the same encouraging babble from everyone, and wanted to hang up the phone before she got more of the same.

"Okay. But I want to come and see you tomorrow, if that's all right." Because even if the doctors couldn't detect the magic that might be causing the blindness, _she_ could. And if she were very lucky, she might even be able to do something about it.

"That would be great," Kelsey told her. "Call first; I don't know exactly when I'll get home." She paused, then, and when she continued it was with noticeable puzzlement. "Uh, Harmony? Have you been taking... voice lessons, or something?"

The blonde girl had been idly winding the phone cord around and around her hand. Now she froze, and tried to answer normally.

"Lessons? Nope! ...Why do you ask?"

The other girl's frown was almost audible.

"Well... you sound different. Not just the sound of your voice, either; there's sort of an accent there, almost... kind of like Kate Beckinsale would sound if she were auditioning to play Galadriel, maybe."

Without her meaning to, Harmony's fingers came to rest at the base of her throat.

"Really? I sound that weird?"

"No, no, it's not anything crazy-obvious, it's just that," She made a chuckling sound, and this time it _almost_ sounded genuine. "I guess I'm getting a lot of practice listening to people talk, is all."

Harmony cleared her throat, and concentrated on speaking normally. She couldn't really tell how well it worked, though.

"Um. It must be those books-on-tape I've been listening to; 'cause that's easier than reading the real books for class? The lady doing them talks in an accent, so maybe I'm copying her without meaning to."

"Oh. That could be it, sure." There was the briefest of pauses, and then: "I wouldn't worry about it. You sound really good. Very sex...smart. I meant you sound smart, and nice; great phone voice."

The girl's fumble, and the discomfort that came through afterwards, made Harmony smile.

"Sexy and smart. I guess there are worse things I could sound like. Thanks."

Several seconds of dead silence then, with neither of them saying anything, before the blonde unwound her hand from the cord and cleared her throat self-consciously.

"I'll call you tomorrow then."

"Yep! See you... ah, talk to you later. Bye."

Harmony nodded determinedly.

"I think you were right the first time. You'll see me later, Kelsey. Bye."

She hung up the phone, sighed heavily, and then gave a wave to Mr. Dawe, the Physics and Biology teacher, who had kindly allowed her to use the phone.

"Thank you," she told him, and he smiled and nodded as she pushed through the door and out into the hallway.

_I can heal, some,_ she mused as she walked. _And I should be able to break a spell, if there's still one on her. Between the two of those, I might be able to help her._

Of course there was the minor issue with most of her magicks being screwed up, and either not working at all, or not working quite as they ought. As she threaded her way through the between-classes rush of students, Harmony wondered how best to deal with that.

_I should probably at least practice casting spells, before I try pouring magic straight into someone's eyeballs. I don't want to even imagine what it might look like if I were to screw that up._

Too late; she squeezed her own eyes shut and tried to banish the grisly image from her mind.

_Okay, that is way gross. Bad imagination! Bad!_

Opening her eyes and continuing around the corner, she nibbled her lower lip meditatively.

_The practicing thing, though, that's a good idea. I still don't even know much about the spells she has--I mean, the spells_ I _have, or which ones are still working. There's still so much I don't know about everything...._

Which had been amply demonstrated by the two classes she'd had after lunch.

Economics... well, not much of interest had happened there. Her new memories didn't have much in them about dealing with money, although she _did_ think it fairly nifty that Amora knew (or thought she knew) the locations of several small hoards of silver and gold hidden throughout the world. Unfortunately the nearest of them was high in the Andes mountains, so it would be awhile before she was able to go and see for herself if it was really there.

It was in her Spanish class that she'd gotten a real surprise.

She was taking Spanish because she _had_ to take at least one language, and they'd stuck her in what was considered to be the easiest one. It had turned out to not be easy enough, of course, and the only reason she wasn't failing was because Ms. Pickering most definitely did _not_ want Harmony repeating the class. Today wasn't any different than usual, since Amora had never learned Spanish either. The surprise part came when she'd succumbed to boredom, and began searching through the enormous amounts of information crowding her mind for the languages that the goddess _did_ know.

The Asgardian pantheon used a version of Ye Olde Norse amongst themselves; she'd already found that much out for herself. Additionally, however, her brain now contained the Latin, Gaelic, French languages (including several obscure dialects of the latter), as well as Japanese, Ancient Greek (for some reason she couldn't quite track down), and something that was either Korean or some version of Chinese, she wasn't sure which). All of that was confusing enough; after diving into those memories there were several minutes during which she couldn't understand the teacher even when she was speaking English. Once the babble in her head had settled down a bit, however, she found something even stranger.

She knew Elvish.

It was a bit of a shock to discover that Elves were even real, much less suddenly find herself knowing their language. They were real, though, at least they were back in the world that Amora had inhabited. Several different races of the immortal humanoids dwelt in the various sub-regions of Asgard itself, plus various clans and minor races scattered throughout the nine worlds. The elven language also served, in various degraded forms, as the language of certain other species, like trolls, dragons, dwarves, and other strange beings described in memories she didn't care to explore just then.

It drove the point home, however, that she was currently a stranger even to herself (or perhaps _especially_ to herself). It was essential that she take some time and figure a few things out concerning her powers, before a situation arose where her ignorance bit her on the... behind.

Harmony stopped short at the base of the stairs. Her last class of the day was on the second floor, and she had only a minute or so before the bell rang and she was late. On the other hand....

_Nope, Amora doesn't understand Pre-Calculus either, and she doesn't care either... so just forget it. This is more important, and I can charm my way out of any trouble it causes later... I hope._

Turning about, she took the turning of the hall that led across to the far side of the building. There was one place that should be completely deserted, and was certainly large enough for her to practice her spells in peace. All she would need to do is be careful not to cause any damage to the place once she got in, and--

"I don't need to see the nurse! I--_achoo!_--keep telling you tha--_achoo!_--Damn it! I'm fine!"

A rapid-fire barrage of sneezes followed, and some truly disgusting snorting and sniffly sounds that reminded Harmony of a pig shoving its snout deep in a trough of slops. She put her head cautiously around the corner. There, in front of the school nurse's office, was Mr. Findley, the assistant Principal. Beside him, and looking much worse than she had only a few hours earlier, was Aspen.

The girl was, frankly, nearly unrecognizable as the pretty girl who had attacked Harmony in the bathroom. Her skin was blotchy, shiny with sweat, and her entire face looked puffy and swollen. Instead of sparkling with cruel joy, her eyes were now bloodshot and watery. And then there was her nose.

It wasn't just running, it was pouring out a thick, nearly continuous stream of yellowish-green snot, making it look like someone had turned on a faucet connected to a frighteningly large reservoir of disgusting slime. The slimy mucus was smeared all over her cheeks and chin as she tried to staunch the flow with a totally inadequate handkerchief. With every sneeze, large bubbles would bloom from her nostrils, and dangling strings of snot would issue forth, sticking to anything nearby. The front of her blouse was already a sodden mess, and even her skirt was adorned by drippings that contrasted badly with the cola stains from the earlier bathroom incident.

"Be reasonable, Aspen," Mr. Findley was telling the girl, doing his best to be reassuring yet firm. "This is obviously some sort of allergic reaction, and you either need to go home, or let the nurse take a look at you. I would have an ambulance here for you already, if Principal Snider weren't so dead-set against calling them for anything short of life-and-death emergencies."

Aspen was shaking her head in denial, even as she unfolded and refolded the handkerchief in an attempt to find some part of it not already coated in mucus.

"No! No nurse! I'll--" A gargantuan sneeze rocked her back on her heels, and sprayed sticky, dripping strings of yellow-green all over Mr. Findley's suit. She looked at him, every inch of her radiating misery, and finished in a small voice. "I'll be fine, sir, just let me sit down for a minute. And, um, I could use a box of tissues."

The man didn't bother answering, he simply opened the door to the Nurse's office, and unceremoniously propelled the girl inside via a firm grip on her elbow. The sounds of sneezing, sniffling, and whining complaints were muffled considerably after the door closed behind them, and Harmony broke out in delighted laughter.

_Oh... my god(s)_, she thought to herself as she tip-toed past the door, taking care to avoid the scattered globs of slime on the floor. _That is so amazingly funny! And... um, it's also a little extreme, isn't it? Did I really do that to her with my teeny-tiny curse? Do I really not care about what she's going through?_

She hesitated, looking back at the door as she considered, the words to a spell of healing rising unbidden to her lips... and then she grinned.

_Nope! Don't care! She tried to hurt me! She should thank me for letting her off this easy, after that. Besides, she'll be better by Monday... probably._

The bell rang, announcing the start of class, and it echoed around Harmony as she walked down the empty hall. It disconcerted her a tiny bit that she couldn't quite erase the cruel smile that quirked her lips up at the corners, but she dismissed it a moment later. After all, visiting a little sweet revenge upon an enemy was cause for celebration, not dismay.

The natural sway of her hips grew more pronounced as she strode confidently towards the far side of the building, and her soft, rich voice echoed up and down the deserted hallway as she sang.

_"I'm the kind of girl that girls don't like,  
I'm the kind that boys fantasize.  
I'm the kind that your momma and your daddy were afraid you'd turn out to be like...."_

She laughed out loud again, turning a slow circle as she walked, and sent a jaunty little wave back towards the suffering Aspen before facing forward again.

_"I pick all my skirts, to be a little too sexy.  
Just like all my thoughts, they always get a bit naughty.  
When I'm out with my girls, I always play a bit bitchy.  
Can't change the way I am: Sexy, Naughty, Bitchy Me."_

* * * * *

As she had hoped, the school auditorium was deserted. There hadn't been any notices posted concerning activities that would need the huge room, and Harmony felt reasonably sure that she wouldn't be disturbed while she used the space to test out some spells.

Even before she reached the end of the wide aisle that led up to the stage, she stopped and began her first casting.

_Since one of my Detection spells is for showing me if any living beings are close by, seems like the logical choice to try first, right?_

She murmured the Words, and reached out with both hands to bend the energies of the universe to her will. The spell, if it worked properly, would give her what amounted to a radar image inside her head, where any living beings larger than an insect would show as points of light. She would know roughly how large a creature it was, as well as the direction and distance. That kind of thing would be good to know in situations like this one, where it would be more than simply embarrassing if someone happened to be lurking and saw something she wouldn't be able to explain away.

The spell took around half a minute to complete, as it was much more complex than something simple like a force blast, and when the casting was done she saw... nothing.

Nothing useful, anyway. The inside of her head filled with a wash of lurid light and the mental equivalent of static, and she gritted her teeth to keep from whimpering out loud. A moment's concentration banished the magic, and she sighed as she opened her eyes.

"Well, poop. So much for that one."

With the magical method not working, she was forced to spend several minutes walking all around the auditorium, making certain that all the doors were closed, and that no students were dozing in some hidden corner. She checked the backstage area too; for all she knew, some aspiring high-school actor might have been back there studying lines, or working on a costume, or simply goofing off instead of attending their last class of the day. When her search turned up no one, she wandered back out onto the stage, and looked out into the hundreds of empty seats.

"And now, for my first trick...."

She closed her eyes and spoke another spell, the ancient Norse words falling from her lips without the slightest hesitation. At the end of the incantation she spoke a single, English word, held an image in her mind, and then she _reached_.

This was much like the 'Detect Life' spell she'd just tried, only it narrowed the focus to a specific object, instead of any and all living creatures within range. For the test she had picked something that was likely to be close by, and sure enough her spell showed her a location, though again the colors that flooded her mind were painful, and that annoying static made it impossible to hold the spell for more than a few moments. When she opened her eyes, she frowned, rubbed at her temple with gentle fingers, then she walked to the left side of the stage. Sure enough on the floor there, back under the edge of the massive curtains, she discovered a single #2 pencil, which was what she'd directed the spell to find for her.

"So, Detection spells sort of work, only they're not going to do me much good until I figure out how to block all that nasty static that's radiating from the dimensional fracture."

Granted, the school was probably the worst place to try those spells, since it was sitting exactly _on_ the anomaly. If she tried them elsewhere in town, she might have a range of several blocks at least, maybe even further. That would be nice, because then she could do things like find her missing purse, or keep tabs on that vampire who had gotten away after attacking her last night. Resolving to work on the Detection stuff later, and elsewhere, she moved on to the next part of her mental checklist.

Looking around, her gaze fell upon a metal stand, the kind musicians used to hold their sheet music. It was over twenty-five feet away, all the way across the stage from where she stood, and probably weighed five or ten pounds. Pointing a finger at it, she gestured briefly with the other hand, and breathed one soft Word.

The object shuddered for a moment, then twitched, and then rose smoothly into the air, to end up hovering at head height above the stage. It looked like a success, but Harmony snarled a string of foul language in her newly-discovered Norse.

_Damn it!_ She snarled inwardly once she'd exhausted the supply of really bad curses. _It works, basically, except for the part where it's about a hundred times harder to lift this than it should be!_

On a good day, Amora's telekinetic spells could move objects weighing several tons, and do it out to a considerable distance. Here, now, Harmony doubted that she would be able to lift much more than a single adult human, and probably not even that if he were further away than the music stand she now held.

_It's like I don't have a good enough 'grip' on it, so it's taking huge amounts of energy to lift even a little weight._ She held the object aloft for a full minute, her eyes tracing the lines of magical force that connected her to the thing. It seemed to be something she could fix, given time, though she didn't look forward to weeks (at the very least) of research spent trying to relearn something she should already be able to _do_....

She lowered the stand to the stage, her scowl deepening as she realized how tired she'd been getting while supporting even that trivial weight. Her body should become accustomed to channeling magical energies eventually, which would increase her spellcasting stamina. Hopefully not all of her spells would require so much power to function properly, either. More to work through her frustration than for any other reason, she made the quick gesture that accompanied the casting of the _Goblyn Hammer_ spell.

_Or the 'baseball-bat spell', to use my name for it instead of Amora's,_ Harmony thought sourly as the music stand was sent spinning across the stage by the impact of the mystical force attack. That one, at least, seemed to work exactly as it should, and she'd seen that her other forcebolt spells worked more or less properly too. Obviously, the crude 'pulse' of force those spells created wasn't as adversely affected as the more subtle spells. Or, possibly, the fact that they didn't need to 'connect' to an object in any way (other than to smite it) was the critical difference? Was the very nature of matter in this universe different, somehow, from that were Amora had learned to use magic? Of course that assumed that it wasn't the dimensional anomaly that was behind all her problems. If it was simply that, then all she need do was remove herself from Sunnydale, and everything would be fine.

Harmony wished suddenly that she could just flop into her bed at home and close her eyes for awhile. Even though Amora knew how to do the research it would take to find the answers, she also knew exactly how much tedious work it would take to even quantify her problems, much less solve them. Starting from scratch as she was, it might well take years to figure it all out.

"Don't," she told herself out loud, her voice stern. "Don't let all of this scare you into not even _trying_. You're a Goddess, Harmony Kendall. You. Are. A. _Goddess_." She took a deep breath, held it, and then blew it all out in a rush. "So act like it!" A little intimidated by the sound of her full, angry voice filling the auditorium, she took a step back and went on in something much closer to her old, girlish tones. "So just try and act like it, okay?"

Answering herself with a firm nod, she went on with the testing.

Matter Manipulation spells--turned out to work not so good. She bent her powers upon that same unfortunate music stand, and was able to alter its shape at will; from little steel ball to bigger hollow steel box to a big ol' snarl of steel wire... but just like the telekinetic stuff, it was _hard_. It should have been a snap to make an entire car do the same thing; warp and shape itself into anything she wanted, so long as the material it was made of didn't actually change. Instead, it took huge amounts of energy to change even a tiny fraction of that, and she had to stop when she started to get tired again.

Matter Transformation was even worse. That involved reaching into the actual molecules and atoms and making something turn into something else, like steel to gold to ice cream. Try as she might, she couldn't make any of those spells work at all. Whatever it was that kept her from getting a proper 'hold' on matter, it wouldn't let her change the basic nature of something until she figured out what she was doing wrong.

"Hokay then: Elemental spells!"

It was one thing to set something on fire. She could do that with a variant on Telekinesis, by agitating the molecules in an object, making them move faster and faster until the thing started burning (or just got really hot, if it were metal or water or whatever). Creating actual masses of flame, though, was something completely different. Since she didn't want to burn down the school, she first, shaped the lump of steel that had been a music stand into a medium-sized iron bowl, complete with little legs to hold it up off of the wooden stage. Then she concentrated carefully, gathered her magicks, and cast a spell. The Words and gestures allowed her to _reach_ through dimensional space, to the Elemental plane of existence that _was_ Fire. It wasn't as quick to cast as a Forcebolt, granted. On the other hand, if she hit a Vampire with a blast of elemental flame, he wasn't going to shrug it off and keep trying to eat her.

Annnnd... it wasn't going to happen.

"Okay," she told the bowl quietly, when it stubbornly remained empty, and _not_ filled with liquid fire as she'd intended. "Right now I think I hate everything in the whole universe. A lot."

The spell was working, she could feel the bit of herself she'd sent off into the ether _trying_ to make contact with the Elemental plane... it just wasn't having any luck in finding it. Nothing felt right, none of the dimensions adjoining Midgard were where her Amora self thought they ought to be.

It was perhaps a little like what a blind person would feel, if instead of their familiar house, they were suddenly dropped into a strange place, where the doors and door handles were all in unfamiliar shapes... and were placed not only in the walls, but in the floors and ceilings, too. She knew there was a way to get to what she wanted, she simply didn't know how to find it.

Even though she was starting to feel seriously dejected, Harmony forced herself to try similar spells intended to manifest water, air, and earth effects. (The last one, earth, would have made quite a mess if it had worked, what with dirt and rock erupting up through the floor. By then, though, she was sure it _wouldn't_ work... and she turned out to be right.)

After that she took a minute to rest, while pacing around and around the stage.

"I'm going to have to map the changes, somehow," she told herself softly, the _clickclickclick_ of her heels forming a steady backdrop to her voice. "If I knew the cosmic topography of this place, then at least I'd know what I have to change for the dimensional spells to work again." _Clickclickclick_. "Some of my spells call on other-planar beings, though, not just other places. It's not likely that this world-cluster has those same beings, is it? And even if it does, they won't know me, and they're not going to let me tap their power unless we make some kind of deal first."

More work then, before she could again access that group of magical effects. Her energies restored somewhat, Harmony stopped, and considered the empty stage again.

"Can't really test the Healing spells here, unless I want to experiment on myself... which I really don't."

That didn't seem necessary, though. She'd cast healing spells on herself last night, after Ethan's chaos magic had faded away, and they had worked fine. At least, they had on herself. She'd have to wait until tomorrow, with Kelsey, to see if something more useful than triggering nasty allergic reactions was still within her power.

"Mind spells also no-go for testing here, but they've been working pretty well so far." When she'd tranced her father, and later on, Bryan, the results had been satisfactory, if not as quick or powerful as Amora had been accustomed to achieving. She frowned at nothing in particular, playing idly with the small braids that Kiara had woven in her hair. "No actual matter involved with those, I guess, is why they're working okay, mostly? Minds are still minds, whether here or back in that super-hero 'verse she's from?" A small sigh escaped her lips. "It still needs some fine-tuning; Bryan shouldn't have been able to smack my butt like that after I told him not to."

As far as spellcasting went, that really only left Illusions, which were her specialty, and pure combat magicks, which Amora had never really developed much, other than the Forcebolt stuff, and a few Mana bolt and blast spells. Those could stun most living beings without harming them overmuch, though again, that needed a test subject she didn't have here. Illusions, though, were something she could try.

"Not that I really need proof those are working," she said, looking down at her own form. The image that overlay her true form still held, though she could see signs that it was beginning to fray a bit at the edges. Not surprising, as it had been something like eight hours since she had put the Masking spell in place. Being in a highly-charged magical environment like the school building (which sat atop the dimensional fracture) didn't help matters either, of course.

A few moment's work dissolved the weakening spell, revealing her tall, slim, curvy self in all its glory. Then she started from scratch, and rebuilt the image to the same specifications, which she'd worked out that morning while standing in front of her bathroom mirror. Laying an illusion over something else was easier than creating a free-standing one, for some fairly esoteric reasons. Most spells also required the caster to sustain them by devoting continuous attention and expenditure of energy to the magic or else it would quickly collapse. An illusion such as the one that disguised her was easy enough to make self-sustaining, however, at least for a few hours. It required her to expend more energy 'up front', as she cast the spell, but after that it remained in force without further attention for some time.

"--And I didn't really realize any of that until just now," Harmony said in surprise, as another bit of knowledge in Amora's memories finished integrating into her own mental processes. "Gee, and this morning I was just sort of winging it, without thinking of what I was doing."

With her disguise in place once more, she ran quickly through a few things, making sure she had a good idea of what she could and could not do.

Realistic, three-dimensional illusions, for example, were very possible. After a minute's concentration, and a little trial and error, she had a passable copy of the vampire from last night, standing in the center of the stage and snarling at her menacingly. Moving her hands through gestures that were half-spellcasting and half puppeteer-like motions, she was able to walk him around the stage, make him wave his arms, and mime an attack on a victim. It wasn't perfect, of course; if she looked closely she could see that his feet didn't really line up with the ground when he walked. The effect was a little like he was ice-skating, and a little like what she'd seen in video games, when a character's animation was a bit off. Lack of a shadow or fine detail were a giveaway too, if someone were paying close attention. Of course, doing the illusion in real-time was more difficult than preparing it ahead of time; if she had time to 'program' it in advance, she could probably do a lot better.

The problem there would be that the image would perform a pre-determined series of actions, instead of responding to her orders like this one was--

_CsshBoom!_

Her illusionary puppet faded away as the double doors at the back of the auditorium flew open with a metallic crash, leaving a small, menacing figure silhouetted against the brighter light outside.

"Well, well," Principal Snyder said, his cold voice carrying the length of the room. "I _thought_ I heard someone in here. Someone who is most definitely not supposed to _be_ in here. Now I wonder who that unlucky individual might be?"

Harmony had been standing off to the side, with the illusionary vampire occupying center stage. With a startled little 'Eeek!' she shuffled quickly backwards, to end up hidden behind the curtain. Hopefully the man's eyes hadn't adjusted quickly to the change in brightness from the hallway to the dimly-lit room. Since she _hadn't_ turned on any lights, the stage wasn't especially well illuminated....

Of course there also wasn't anywhere for her to go; the little nook where she was standing backed on to a blank wall, leaving her trapped there. Carefully, she risked a quick peek around the curtain, and sure enough, Snyder was striding purposefully down the aisle and straight towards her.

_Invisibility?_ she wondered, already preparing herself to begin the casting. Then she winced, as the answer came back. _Um, no; that is_ not _a simple spell. I can do it... and it only takes about five minutes to finish._

"You. You there. Come out where I can see you. _Now._"

Harmony's mind was racing. Sure, it was racing around in circles, but it _was_ racing.

_I can drop the disguise; then he wouldn't recognize me! No, no, I'd rather not have anyone at school see the real me, not if I can help it. I don't want them to connect 'Harmony' with the new magical-girl in town. Okay then, how about I blast him? Or just smack the poo out of him with my bare hands?_ She winced, wondering what the evil little man's reaction would be if he woke up in the hospital with multiple broken bones and a certain knowledge that it had been one Harmony Kendall who had attacked him. _No, that would be bad; I don't want to be a super-villain for real, with every cop looking for me. What does that leave me? I don't have time to work up another disguise, not one that would fool anyone, at least. The only forms I've worked out are this one, and... hm. This one, and--_

"All right," Snyder declared in that harsh, curiously pleased tone that the entire student body knew all too well. "If you want to play games, then we'll play one of my favorites." She heard him climbing the short flight of steps to the stage, though she was too busy casting to risk another look. "It's called 'Someone gets a week of detention'." The cruel little smirk of satisfaction was all too evident in the little man's voice. "The name is a misnomer, however, since in the bonus round we can award all sorts of extra penalties, some of which are _extremely_ unpleasant."

He was nearly to her; she could hear his footsteps just on the other side of the heavy curtain. She didn't let that rattle her, she simply finished what she was doing, watched the form materialize directly in front of her, and then she made the gestures which moved it forward.

"Ah, so we finally see...." Snyder trailed off, and she waited expectantly to see how he would react. "Who are you? You're not a student here."

The image of the vampire was the only one she'd had handy, so that was what was facing the principal just a few feet from where she was hiding. In his non-vamp face the man looked normal enough, though a bit greasy and disheveled. The problem was, the image couldn't speak. Harmony could maybe try speaking for him, though that wouldn't work especially well, and Snyder might even recognize her, even with her new voice....

_'Hm' again!_ She thought, as another spell suggested itself to her. Carefully holding the image in place, she split her attention and began casting again, as quietly and quickly as she was able.

"Well? Nothing to say?" The man was getting angrier, and sounding even more crazed and paranoid, if that was actually possible.

"Wait, I think I know what you're doing in here. It's drugs, isn't it?" She heard him take a step back. "You're a drug dealer, and this is where you're meeting your degenerate little teenage buyers, isn't that right? Well, if you think I'm going to allow that kind of thing to happen on my watch, you've got another--"

"Oh, please! Just shut _up!_"

Harmony's second spell was done, and with it in effect her own voice was altered and amplified, with a distinctly male pitch replacing her feminine tones. Her left hand opened and closed like she was manipulating a muppet's mouth, which moved the illusion's lips in unison with her words... more or less. Luckily for her, it was pretty shadowy out there on stage.

"W-What did you just say?" Snyder sputtered, apparently buying the combined visual and auditory illusion. "Do you think you can come to my school and get away with that? I know people, young man. I can have the chief of police himself down here to put the cuffs on you. I can get the Mayor on the phone, and you have no idea how much trouble _that_ can--"

Enough. She needed to get out of there, and for that she needed Snyder out first. Since she already had the vampire all set up and facing him, the thing to do was to recreate the scary face-morphing thing she'd seen him do last night, and send the little weasel-man scurrying away to hide. Her hands twisted, danced, and then pulled downwards, as if tearing away a mask.

"Flee, mortal!" she intoned, miming the mouth movements as she spoke. "I hunger! And... uh, I suppose that a principal's blood is as satisfying as any other! So flee, before I drink you up like a.... Like a senior-sized mocha frappacino!"

Harmony couldn't help cringing at the bad dialogue; she couldn't help it, though. Trying to come up with good lines while holding two active spells in place wasn't very easy. _Especially_ when this was her first time trying anything so complicated.

"You!" Snyder exclaimed, and she smiled as she heard the consternation in his voice as he stared up at the image's yellow eyes and gleaming fangs. A moment later, however, he spoke again, and the smile faded. "You know your kind aren't allowed here! Certainly not during school." His voice was coming from a little further away; he'd backed up several more steps. He hadn't run, though, and he didn't sound panicked. Tense, yes, but not panicked. In fact, the usual irate, demanding note was slipping back in as he continued. "How did you even get in here during the day? I had that sewer tunnel blocked months ago."

She stared blankly at the wall, and tried to find some explanation for what she was hearing. Some explanation other than the one that was quickly filling every part of her with something completely unexpected: rage.

"You _know?!_" She demanded, not even bothering with making the illusion's mouth move. "You know there are vampires out there, and you didn't _say_ anything?!" Unable to stop herself, Harmony found a small gap in the curtain and stared out at the scene on stage. Snyder didn't notice her, his attention was fully occupied by the vampire glaring back at him.

"I know no such thing," he was saying, looking pale even as his hands moved reflexively to straighten the lapels of his cheap suit jacket. "There aren't any vampires in Sunnydale... or anywhere else for that matter. What there are, are a number of... vampire-themed gang members, possibly like yourself, who often perform violent and senseless acts while under the influence of PCP. Acts which are not in any way the responsibility of the Sunnydale educational establishment, either morally or legally...."

The lie and the ass-covering disclaimer both rolled off his tongue with the ease of long practice, even as his searching foot found the top step, and he began backing down towards the first row of seats. His eyes never left the 'vampire' in front of him, and so he didn't see Harmony edge out of her hiding spot until she had a clear view of him.

"You knew. How many people have died, how many _students_ have died, because you didn't warn them? What is _wrong_ with you?!"

The masculine voice boomed throughout the room as the image stalked forward at her prompting. There was a strong, tinny distortion in the voice; the spell was another telekinetic manipulation, designed to move air molecules, and those spells weren't working exactly as they should. Snyder didn't seem to notice. He was sweating profusely now, and had reached the floor in front of the stage.

"I won't answer questions from a trespasser. You have exactly two minutes to be off school property, or I'll see that you're arrested for--"

She couldn't believe it. It was incredible, how the man's armor of smugness and superiority was thick enough to let him spout his authoritarian garbage even when he was in such apparent danger.

Or maybe it wasn't just 'apparent' danger. Not when she was feeling more fury in this moment than she'd ever imagined possible. A flick of her hand sent the image leaping at Snyder, claws reaching and fangs bare. She was finally rewarded with a shriek of pure terror from the man, though that in no way affected what she did next. When the 'vampire' landed before him, she swept its arm through a blurring strike, and at that moment she made the quick gesture and performed the act of will required for her least potent attack spell.

_Goblyn Hammer_

She didn't lessen the force of the invisible 'baseball bat' as she could have, though she did take care that the impact was in his stomach, and not across his face. The latter might well have killed him, the former only hurt him very badly. The little man folded forward and staggered backwards, all at once, and ended up on the floor, curled up around his middle and struggling to breathe.

Her head throbbing a little from the strain of casting a spell while maintaining two others, Harmony stepped up to the edge of the stage, looking down at him in silence. His eyes were shut tight, and she doubted he was fully conscious at that moment. The temptation to simply end him was strong. No one would miss him, and she doubted anyone would blame her, given what she now knew. Even so, she backed away, and walked to the other side of the stage. The dressing rooms and prop areas were accessible from there, as was the side exit, which opened out near the western side of the courtyard.

"I'm not done with you," she said before she left, her amplified voice echoing through the auditorium. "We _will_ be discussing some punishments, Principal Snyder. It might take me a while to decide what to do with you, but that's only because I want it to be extra-special. Believe me, it's going to be _much_ worse than anything you can imagine... but don't let that stop you from trying. While you still can."

She dropped the voice spell, and the vampire image, and left the stage.

Behind her, though the man still writhed and struggled to make his abused diaphragm function again, he heard every word.

And he felt something he was unaccustomed to feeling, here, in his own private domain. He felt _fear_.

* * * * *

Harmony's rage carried her all the way outside, and into the center of the courtyard on the school's western side. It was nearly deserted just then, though as soon as the last bell sounded there would be a flood of students passing through on their way out to the parking lot.

She took deep breaths, fought to find some calm, and resisted the urge to try putting her fists through the nearest concrete wall.

_He knows. Snyder knows there are really vampires out there, and he hasn't done anything about it._

It wasn't that she expected the man to go out there with holy water and a stake to fight the things; that would be incredibly stupid for _anyone_ to do. Still, if he'd said something, if they'd had a school assembly or something, where he and some other adults had laid it all out for the students, then....

_Then some of us wouldn't have died_, she thought bitterly. _Sam Lewis, Chris Burke, Dana Green, Paul Hume, Ken Stolt, Caroline Venters, Tom... okay I can't remember Tom's last name, but he seemed like an okay guy. All of them dead from 'neck rupture', and that's just so far this year. Sophomore year was worse, especially that thing at the Bronze. If I'd been there I might be dead too, and for what? Why hasn't anyone warned us?_

She didn't yet know what she was going to do about that, but she knew she was going to do _something_. Just as she knew that Snyder would soon regret his silence.

A lot.

The bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, and she have her head a little shake as she pulled herself out of those dark thoughts. She didn't especially want to spend her time as some sort of crazed vigilante, lobbing magical punishments at random people like little hand grenades of vengeance. Still, Snyder was a special case, and she _would_ hold him accountable.

Just as soon as she had more than a handful of working spells.

The first few students pushed through the doors across the way from her, and she moved off to the side. There were little concrete benches there, and she sat down on one to wait out the rush.

_I should be able to snap my fingers and turn this into a sinfully-comfortable throne,_ she thought to herself, watching people walk past without really seeing them. _I should be able to turn that toad Snider into an actual toad with only a look. I remember doing things like that. I want to be able to do things like that again._

"Harmony, hi."

Someone slid onto the bench next to her, and when she looked she found James Osten, a Senior who'd never once bothered speaking to her before. He smiled broadly, edging a little closer, and she wondered what he wanted.

"Listen," he told her, still smiling, still sitting slightly too close. "I'm throwing a party at my house tonight, and I want you to come."

_Oh. Well, now I know what he wants_.

"Sorry, James. I'm not really in a party mood right now. Maybe next time." She supposed she might have sounded a little curt, there, but she couldn't help it. The frustration from the spellcasting session, plus the proof of Snider's betrayal of every student in the school had combined to put her in an ill mood. The way James just 'happened' to be sitting so close that his thigh was pressed up against hers wasn't helping either, nor was the way his smile never wavered as he shook his head at her.

"Come on, Harm, you have to come! I'm naming you the official guest of honor. You get your pick of any color jello shot you want, all night long." He winked at her, and in reply she stared at him like was a particularly interesting species of bug.

_This is that oh-so-famous cool that Senior boys are supposed to possess? Not seeing it. And the way he's eyeing my body doesn't leave much doubt as to what he's looking for from me, does it?_

She didn't mind being thought of as sexy; far from it. She didn't even mind knowing that someone wanted to have sex with her without bothering to get to know her first. The longer the Amora memories were in her head, the more she felt her perception of everything sex-oriented changing. She wasn't just Harmony Kendall anymore, she was The _Enchantress_, and to her sex was power, pleasure, and worship, all rolled up in one candy-sweet package. It would have been insulting if James _hadn't_ wanted to have sex with her.

It was, however, much _more_ insulting that he obviously intended to get her drunk first, so as to make sure he had his fun with no possibility of her saying 'no'.

_I wasn't going to do this, it's not fair to mess with someone's head this badly just to test something out. Thing is, James here deserves having someone mess with him a little. So... here goes._

Harmony smiled back at him, and appeared to think it over. Then she leaned over without warning, and kissed him on the lips, pouring her magic through the contact and bending his heart and mind to her will.

_Love me_, she commanded him, her lips still on his. _Want me, grovel before me, worship me, obey me. Love me, with all that you are, or ever hope to be._

It wasn't a spell. A spell to create love was a fiendishly complex and unpredictable thing, and seldom lasted for more than a few hours before warping and twisting into something dangerous. This was a para-magical effect, something that she could do because of who and what she was. Amora _was_ love, and sexual attraction, in the same sense that Thor was battle and the raging storm. Attraction, lust, sex, affection, love... all fell within her purview as a goddess. Just as most people would eventually like her if they were around her long enough, so would anyone who felt the unrestrained power of her kiss instantly love her. She'd used it last night, when the chaos magic had blanketed the town. Now she used it again, for no better reason than to make sure it still worked.

Which she would find out now. Breaking the kiss, she sat back and watched as James blinked a few times, then smiled uncertainly.

"Wow. Harm.... Just, 'wow'."

She smiled back at him, every breath, every line of her body projecting softness and seduction.

"I'd love to go to your party, James," she told him, and he beamed at her. "Under one, small condition."

"Name it," he declared.

"Well, to prove it really means something to you that I come...." She leaned close, and whispered the rest. "I'd like you to strip naked, right now, and run five laps around the courtyard."

He looked at her, blankly, and then stared around at the two hundred or so students who were slowly making their way through the area, chatting with each other as they went. Then he turned back to face her, and _laughed_.

Loudly.

"You are one crazy lady!" he informed her as he stood up. "Cute, but crazy. Come to the party if you want. That offer on the jello shots still stands." He walked away, laughing to himself as he went, and Harmony crossed her arms tight against her middle, huddling in on herself. She had to take a moment to figure out how to arrange her arms, given her much larger breasts, which only irritated her more.

_Great. It looks like my boobs are the only things that I got from Amora that aren't broken, and what does that do for me? I suppose I could be an exotic dancer? Yeah, that's not a big fall or anything, going from immortal enchantress to stripper wannabe._

"Hi!"

She glanced up, reluctantly, to find Fawn standing in front of her. The girl's expression went from cheerful to concerned as she registered the look on Harmony's face, and she reached out to lightly touch her on one shoulder.

"What's the matter?"

Harmony shrugged dispiritedly, and dropped her gaze to the ground at her feet.

"I am a goddess made of fail," she said dejectedly. Fawn eased down to sit beside her, and wrinkled her nose in confusion.

"Huh?"

Shaking her head, Harmony sat up straight, and combed her fingers back through her hair, trying to throw off her dark mood.

"Nothing. I'm a little depressed right now, is all." She regarded the cute girl and managed a tiny smile for her. "What's up?"

Fawn smiled back, her bubbly nature reasserting itself instantly.

"I just wanted to tell you that, well, me and Kiara were talking after lunch, and we both think you're really nice. Not nearly as nasty and shallow as everybody says you cheerleaders are, you know?"

Harmony's eyebrows rose a bit at that, though she couldn't exactly argue that the label was inaccurate, at least for most of the squad.

"Okay, uh... thanks?"

The other girl blushed, and looked embarrassed.

"Wow, that came out sort of wrong, didn't it? I'm sorry, I didn't mean that _you_ were ever... like that, or anything."

"No, it's fine. I have my own issues with most of those girls too, so I get what you meant."

Fawn bounced happily up and down a little, and made as if to hug her, though she restrained herself at the last second.

"Great! Then we can all hang out together!" She paused, and looked a little uncertain. "That is, if you wanted to, we could hang out. Maybe even be friends?"

For her part, Harmony found herself wishing that Fawn hadn't held back on that hug impulse. She felt very much in need of some comfort just then, and a hug would have been welcome.

"Being friends would be wonderful," she told the girl with total honesty. "I'd love to have some friends."

They didn't even have to be sex-having friends, much as the mere idea of not-sex-having offended her Asgardian self. No, she couldn't see herself trying to seduce Fawn, and not just because she was afraid she'd be turned down again. The girl was simply too.... Well, 'adorable' came close to describing it. Seducing her would seem like taking unfair advantage. Although, now that she thought about it, she was probably doing that already.

_She only likes me because I'm_ making _her like me. Maybe not on purpose, because that power is always 'on', and I don't know how to turn it off, but it's there. Call it super-charisma, call it emotion control; whatever. It's still unnatural, and unfair._ She looked at Fawn's happy, beaming face, and wondered what the girl would think if she knew how she was being manipulated.

Or, at least, possibly manipulated.

_Because I really don't know, do I? If Amora's biggest gun, that 'enslavement kiss' thing is broken, then wouldn't the 'Like me! Like me!' effect be on the blink too? Maybe she, and Kiara, and Cody and Trent just like me because they decided to give me a chance today? Because I'm prettier, now, and it's perfectly natural to want to be around pretty things and pretty people? That's not unfair, it's basic human nature, which is in no way something I have to feel guilty about. Right?_

Fawn was talking, babbling brightly on and on about sleepovers and girl's nights, and Harmony was nodding, and smiling, and somehow feeling the slightest bit more cheerful just from being in close proximity to such an upbeat person. Still, her earlier failures weighed on her, and she deeply regretted not having anyone around that she could confide in. Without Cordelia handy, there simply wasn't anyone she could _talk_ to about what had been happening to her. Fawn might become that sort of friend, eventually, but she certainly didn't want to risk scaring the girl off by revealing all of the current strangeness too soon. Besides, the girl was so tiny, and cute, and innocent; exposing her to certain secrets might end up getting her hurt.

No, what Harmony really needed was someone who was tough enough, and maybe even weird enough, already, to handle the truth of what was going on in Sunnydale in general, and with herself in particular. Maybe someone strong, and tall, and with dark hair that spilled across her eyes. Someone with the most amazing body, and a tiny smile that she had so far only seen once, and even than only for a fleeting instant....

"--Because if we go over to Cody's then all we end up doing is watching him and Trent play Halo all night long, and there's only so much I can take of little cartoon explosions, and aliens, and alien slime-blood spraying everywhere--Oh!" Fawn interrupted herself in midstream, and clapped her hands in delight. "Did you see Aspen this afternoon? She looked completely _disgusting_! She, like, caught some mutant form of the flu or something, and there was snot running all down her front, practically like a waterfall! Mr. Findley was making her drink tons of water, because they were afraid she'd get dehydrated from all the mucus pouring out of her!"

Harmony nodded, still not feeling even a little sympathy for the girl.

"Gee, that's a shame," she deadpanned, and smiled a little when the other girl laughed. Fawn's expression darkened a moment later, though, and she frowned worriedly.

"You don't think any of us will catch it, do you? If it really is some killer flu, then everybody here was exposed, and I mean everybody. You should have _seen_ what happened when she sneezed! Little globs of green goo were spraying _everywhere_--!"

This time it was Harmony's turn to put a reassuring hand on the girl's shoulder.

"Relax, okay? It's not the flu. I, um, heard the Vice-Principal saying that she was having an allergic reaction." Without conscious direction from her brain, her fingers crossed the tiny distance from Fawn's shoulder to her light-brown hair, and she caressed it lightly as she finished. "So nobody is going to catch anything... though I don't envy whoever has to clean all the gunk off the floors, and walls, and ceilings...."

The girl nodded, her eyes completely trusting, and her smile returned.

"Or Mr. Findley's suit! I saw him after they sent Aspen home, and it was just awful!"

Harmony noticed what her fingers were doing, and she hastily pulled her hand back before Fawn realized that the touching was edging closer to flirting territory.

_No! Bad sex-drive! Not this one, remember? Cute, yes, most-definitely, but we're not going there. There's someone else to concentrate on, if I simply_ must _keep going with the Omnisexual urges. Speaking of which...._

"Hey, Fawn; did you happen to see Angela around anywhere, in the last hour or so?"

_Sure, yeah, that's completely smooth and casual. No chance anyone will pick up on my intentions there, will they?_

Fawn's grin, a combination of scandalized shock and wicked glee, confirmed quite clearly that her cover had been blown.

"You like her, don't you? I mean, you really _like_ her."

Harmony valiantly kept on trying for casual, from her indifferent shrug to the way she idly played with one of the Kiara braids.

"I don't really know her well enough to know if I like her or not." The little tuft on the end of the braid was a tiny spill of silken curls; not at all like the dry mass of split-ends it would have been this time yesterday, before her transformation. "She's kind of... interesting, though, don't you think?" Harmony glanced up at the other girl, and shrugged again. "Not that I think much of Goths, as a rule. I mean, what kind of look does she think she's pulling off with that...."

She'd been about to insult the girl's non-hairstyle, with the long bangs that half-hid her eyes more often than not, and the uneven layers that clung lovingly to her cheeks and pale throat... and then she found that she couldn't find anything there to criticize, because it was perfect. Perfect for Angela, at least, which was all that really mattered.

"Her clothes, though; come on! You'd think that she could at least find...."

Something brighter? Or tighter? That would make her look ridiculous. The dark colors suited her. And if the black blouses or baggy Tripp pants hid some of her body from view, that only made it even more urgent that Harmony discover the truth of things for herself. Certainly the hints that were visible proved that the girl had gorgeous, pale skin, and long legs, slimly curved hips, and those shoulders....

Fawn's grin was on the verge of splitting her face in two, and Harmony felt her own cheeks burning with embarrassment.

"You _do_ like her! Well, not that we didn't already know that, after you went and kissed her right in the middle of the cafeteria."

Nodding and spreading her hands wide to acknowledge defeat, Harmony gave the girl a cautious, sidelong look.

"That doesn't bother you? You don't feel... weird, or anything, being around me, knowing that?"

_Because I'm getting some weird vibes from being around myself, right now, from feeling like this!_

Fawn, however, was shaking her head firmly.

"Nope, not at all. I mean, okay, if you tried to kiss me I wouldn't let you, obviously." She paused, and for a long moment her hazel eyes lingered, lost in the endless emerald depths of Harmony's own eyes. Then she blinked, and blushed slightly while looking away.

"I wouldn't let you kiss me right here, I mean, out where everyone could see, 'cause that would be embarrassing. You _are_ really nice, though, and the prettiest girl in school, probably, even if it didn't show as much until you got your makeover, so, um...." She seemed to have lost her train of thought, and Harmony waved a hand in front of her eyes to catch her attention.

"You're okay, then, with me being... bi, I guess?"

"Sure!" Fawn bit her lip for a moment, and then went on in a softer voice. "You should be careful about Angela, though. Even besides being all gothy or whatever, she's kind of strange. Like, seriously strange."

Harmony noticed that the fingers of one hand were trailing lightly up and down her other arm, quietly delighting in the smoothness of her own perfect skin. She frowned down at that hand but didn't do anything about it, as there were lots worse places that could have been receiving the same treatment, and she didn't feel like tempting fate. Besides, it felt good.

"Define 'strange'," she said. "And please bear in mind that you're talking to a theoretically bisexual girl who has recently developed the world's most extreme case of narcissism."

Fawn looked down at where Harmony was caressing herself, and somehow shrugged it off without even blinking.

"Hey, if I had skin like that I'd love touching it too. Actually...." She reached out, tentatively, and trailed her fingertips along the blonde's arm, so lightly that it barely registered. "Oooh," Fawn said, pulling her hand back. "I can't believe how soft that is. And did you get a full-body wax or something? Or do you actually shave all over? Because you don't have a single hair on you, except on your head, and I'd totally try that too, except I've heard that waxing everywhere really hurts a lot, so I haven't wanted to try--"

"Fawn!" It came out a little louder than Harmony had meant, though that was partly because of the way her entire body had clenched in a very sexual response to that feather light touch.

_I think Amora and I really need to get laid,_ she grumbled internally, as she fought to relax muscles she hadn't previously realized she had. _It's coming up on twenty-four hours with me in her body, now, and somehow I get the feeling that twenty-four hours of abstinence is a loooong time for this body._

"You were saying, about Angela being 'strange'?" she finally managed, in something approaching a normal voice.

The girl nodded.

"Strange. Like, she sleeps all the time. Ever notice how she sits in the back of every class? That's because half the time she's dozing off. Her free periods? Sleeping in some corner somewhere, unless she's sneaking outside to smoke, ugh!"

Harmony blinked, a little confused.

"That's it? She doesn't pay attention in class, and she smokes?"

Fawn shrugged, as if the weirdness in those actions should be self-evident.

"She smokes a _lot_. Completely psycho amounts, really." Seeing Harmony's skepticism, she struggled to come up with more. "Oh! And people have seen her popping pills, _plus_ she's obsessive about working out during gym class." Nodding in agreement with herself, she went on. "The whole time, she's either running laps, or working out on one of those machines, instead of doing whatever the rest of us are doing. And the teacher watches her, too; I've seen him keeping track of her and marking stuff down on a clipboard."

All of this was news to Harmony; as a cheerleader she was always off practicing with the others, or at least standing there while Cordelia ranted at her. There was also the thing where Angela was completely beneath the radar, socially speaking. That alone would probably have prevented her from ever noticing much about the girl's actions.

"That all sounds kind of strange," she admitted thoughtfully. "And like I said before; it's interesting."

Excessive smoking didn't seem to make sense when combined with fanatical exercise, though the pills could be anything at all. Low energy, though? She'd certainly had enough energy to kick Aspen's ass, and one of her friends along with her.

"Well, I still want to find out more about her. Have you seen her around or not?"

Fawn looked faintly upset.

"No, not in the last little while. She's a Senior, you know. I think she leaves early on Fridays, on account of not having any classes last period?"

That didn't make Harmony feel any better at all.

_I told her I wanted to talk to her some more; what part of that did she not understand? Darn it. More proof that I'm not the irresistible super-babe I thought I was, if someone I kissed, even in a completely non-magical way, can just up and run off without even coming back to see me--_

"Harmony!"

They both looked up to find James standing there, looking curiously nervous. He ignored Fawn, focusing exclusively on Harmony.

"Listen," he said, his voice strained and tense. "I've been thinking about it, and... um." He cleared his throat, seemed to notice Fawn for the first time, and visibly winced. "That, ah, 'favor' that you wanted me to do for you? In exchange for you coming to my party?" Harmony nodded, eyes wide. "Well... okay. I'll do it. But only if you're serious about showing up, otherwise there's no way I'm going to--"

She raised a hand, cutting him off in mid-phrase.

"Fawn, I've got to go. Next time I see you I'll hopefully have a phone again, and I'll get your number. Then we can talk more, all right?"

"Sure." The girl was eyeing James curiously, even as she got to her feet. "I've got to go anyway. Trent is in detention after school today, so I'm catching a ride with Rebecca instead. See you later!"

"See you," Harmony echoed back, even as she waved James down to sit in the spot just vacated.

"So do you?" he asked her anxiously. "If running around naked is what it takes to get you there, then I'm fine with that."

She leaned back, wondering if this were some kind of joke he was trying to play on her. Certainly he and his friends might find it funny, to string a younger girl along. On the other hand, maybe those friends of his had egged him into taking her up on her offer. It seemed like something high-school boys might do, even if her magic was indeed as broken as she'd feared.

_Even so, he looks a little like he should look, if that kiss finally got around to doing something to him after all. I guess I need to test it, and make sure._

"I don't know," she said out loud, looking pointedly around them. Several minutes had passed since the bell, and the crowd was much thinner now. Perhaps fifty people were in sight, which would lessen the embarrassment factor for him considerably. "If you really cared about me showing up, why wait so long to say yes? And that laughing thing, earlier; I don't like it when people laugh at me."

He laughed again, briefly, and something more like the old, assured James showed in his face.

"Oh come on! You couldn't really expect me to just shuck down and start running around if some girl asks me, could you?"

She tilted her head and regarded him from that angle, as if that would make the view before her more understandable.

"Isn't that what you're agreeing to do _now_?"

He started to dismiss that, paused, and then reluctantly nodded.

"I guess so. It's not the same thing, though. That's more where I... I thought it over, and watched you from over there, and saw how amazingly hot you're looking today, and then...." He looked at her, his eyes a little lost. "And then it made more sense than it did before, you know? Making you happy seemed like the thing to do, even if I have to do something stupid to make it happen."

She wasn't sure what to make of it. He wasn't enthralled, not as she understood the effect, and yet he was definitely _something_, something different than he had been before. There was still a lot of free will showing in the depths of his eyes, though, and that wasn't how it was supposed to work. Total, obsessive love, with complete obedience as a result. It wasn't a nice thing to do to someone, which was why she hadn't tried it on an especially nice person.

"Prove you really want me to go," she told him again. When he raised his hands and started to strip off his shirt, though, she stopped him with a light touch on his elbow. "No, not just that. The price has gone up." Looking at him, bearing in mind that he had intended to get her too drunk to resist and then have his way with her, she gave him a slow nod. "I think.... I want you to strip, and then walk all the way around the school, while acting like a chicken."

He stared at her incredulously, started to speak, stared a moment more, and then shook his head violently.

"No way! I mean, yeah, okay, I'd love to have you... ah, I mean, have you at the party, but--No! Not a chance!"

She'd been watching him closely, and now she frowned to herself as she considered what she'd seen.

_Not enthralled, more like 'smitten'. He wants me, more than simple lust could account for, it's just not enough to make him do something truly repugnant. Sort of halfway to where he should be, if I were at full power. Not great, though it could be useful, I suppose...._

"Fine," she told him, standing up in a single, graceful movement and gathering up her bag along the way. "I was only kidding, anyway."

He blinked owlishly, and then grinned weakly.

"Really?"

"Of course. I'd never, ever do anything that would cost someone their self-respect. Nothing like feeding them alcohol until they were too blitzed to know what they were doing, for example."

He nodded, too dazed to catch her pointed barb.

"Okay then... you're going to be there?"

"Maybe." She wasn't, really, not that he needed to hear that. "Come with me for a second, will you? Just back here." She backed away from him, over to where a row of concrete pillars supported the overhang that protected the bulletin boards from rain. There was a bit of privacy there, if one was careful, and she wanted to test something else while she had James there. He trailed after her obediently enough, and she nodded in encouragement as she pulled him into the shadow of one of the pillars. A quick look around assured her that no one nearby had a clear view of them.

"What's up?" he asked, regaining a little of his usual cockiness. "If you want to make out, why not wait till tonight, when we can do it right? We can use my parent's room. They're out of town until Mon--"

Harmony caught his gaze with her own, and he froze in place instantly. She'd raised her hands, and had been about to begin casting the trancing spell, but it turned out to be unnecessary, as her eyes alone held him spellbound.

"James?" she asked, checking to see if he was really gone.

"Mm?" His voice was distracted, and she could see faint gleams of emerald reflected in his own blue eyes.

"James, if I asked you to do a chicken dance all the way around the school, naked, right now... would you do that for me?"

A frown creased his face, ever-so-slightly, and then it was smoothed away.

"Yeah, I would do that for you, Harmony. Do you want me to start now?"

_Do I?_ she wondered to herself. _Naaah. He's a little sleazy, but he's not that bad._ She sighed, wistfully, and looked him up and down. _Actually, he's kind of cute. Why haven't I met any nice-looking guys today who are really nice?_ Then she had to qualify that bit of mental whining. _I mean, besides Cody and Trent, who are both too nice to 'use and lose'. I meant someone I could have some good sex with, and then never worry about again._ A long, drawn-out sigh failed to make her feel any better, and then she was waving her hand in front of James' face.

"No, you don't have to get naked. You want to know why?" He shook his head mutely, and she scowled at him. "Because, I have it on good authority that I'm not as nasty or shallow as everyone says I am, that's why." He didn't reply. He didn't even blink, actually, and she poked him lightly in the chest with one finger. "All right. You're going to wake up in a second, and then you're going to go to your party. When you get there, you're going to ignore every other girl there, because you're waiting for me to show up. You'll tell everyone that you're waiting for me too, and how awesome you think I am. And if I don't show up, you're going to cry yourself to sleep thinking of me." She poked him again, a little harder this time.

"And that, mister, is what you get for trying to use a girl, instead of treating her with some dignity. Do you understand me?"

He nodded.

"I understand you," he said, faintly.

"Okay then. Here." She held out her hand to him. "Kiss my hand, and thank me for being so nice."

He kissed her fingers. Not expertly, but with sincerity.

"Thank you, Harmony, for being so nice."

She wiped her knuckles on his shirt, then pushed him back a step.

"Cool. Now wake up, and leave."

He gave a start, his eyes widened, and he nodded at her happily.

"Fantastic. I'll see you there at eight?"

"Something like that," she agreed.

"Outstanding. All right, gotta run. Later!" He left at a trot, and she watched his ass as he went.

"Damn, he doesn't look bad at all, for a jerk. And I really do need to get laid."

* * * * *

Five minutes later found her standing in exactly the same spot, wondering about what had just happened.

_The kiss made him more receptive to a trance, and it might have made those suggestions more effective too. I'll have to get a report from somebody at that party tonight, on what James ends up actually doing. Probably not everything I told him to do, or not exactly how I told him to do it. People aren't that easy to manipulate, not unless you've got them on a magical leash the whole time, anyway._

Still, even if it's just a way to knock down someone's resistance to certain spells, the kiss thing isn't a complete loss.

What she really needed, to be certain it was behaving as she thought, was to obtain a control sample. Trying the same spells on someone she had kissed, and then on someone she hadn't. That way she could compare the two directly, and get a clear idea of the pros and cons of the thing. Planting hypnotic suggestions wasn't a very good measuring stick, either, since the effectiveness of that could vary too much from person to person. She needed something simple, something that was easier to measure.

Sleep, for example. She had a simple spell that caused sleep, and it was almost a hundred percent effective, unless the person were aware of what was happening and actively trying to resist. The courtyard had continued to clear, and potential targets were getting a little scarce, but there were still a few likely subjects out there. It wouldn't even hurt to throw some random stuff around, either. All anyone might lose was a few seconds of consciousness; no harm, no foul. She scanned the area, wondering who she should try it on first. A pair of Freshman girls wandered past; Sharon Turner and Donna Ippolito.... No, she wanted someone alone, so there wouldn't be the chance that carrying on a conversation would provide added resistance. Joel? He was a stocky, not-so-attractive Sophomore, who was the leading scorer for their soccer team. She was on the verge of beginning her spell when another target wandered into view, and she stopped short.

"Oh, much better," she said out loud, grinning as she lined up on the man and began her casting. Ever since Snider had infuriated her earlier, she'd been itching to inflict something, anything, on a member of the staff. Better yet if it were someone she didn't especially like, and Mr. Giles, the school librarian, was definitely on that list. He acted like he was _so_ smart, and talked down to her like she was _so_ dim....

Okay, so maybe he was pretty smart, and maybe before today she hadn't been the brightest bulb around. Still, he shouldn't have been so mean about it.

She tracked him as he walked across the open space, her fingers dancing and her lips shaping the Words. Her mind spun and whirled through the intricate working of will that backed both gestures and vocalization, and when the first repetition was complete she launched into the second. Sleep wasn't exactly an instant effect. A victim might succumb quickly, or it might take a dozen or more repetitions of the spell to make them sit down and slump into unconsciousness. Whether it came quick or slow, however, there wasn't much chance that an unsuspecting--

Mr. Giles stopped short, nearly tripping as he froze in mid-stride. He then whipped around, his head craning as he searched the area around him, looking almost directly at--

Harmony gasped, stopping her casting and ducking back behind the pillar. She stood there, motionless, for what seemed like a long time, though it was probably less than a minute. When she dared look again, the man was staring off at the other side of the courtyard, where a group of students were sitting around one of the small tables off by the little trees in their planter.

_He felt me casting that? How could he--?_

Shifting her eyes to the wavelengths where magic was visible, Harmony squinted against the sullen glare that bathed the area and tried to see what, if anything, was up with Mr. Giles. It took only moments, though what she saw raised more questions than it answered.

_He's carrying talismans. Protective ones, mostly, and they're pretty weak. Still, half a dozen of them add up, and it was enough to deflect my little sleep spell._ She chewed at her lip worriedly, and pondered that little mystery. _What is our school Librarian doing carrying around magical protections? What the heck is going on around here, anyway?_

"There you are!"

Harmony would have growled something about there really being such a thing as having too much popularity, only it was Rachel who had walked around the corner, and she was not about to snap at her friend that way.

"Here I are," she agreed instead. "What's up?"

"Just checking to see if you need a ride home." The girl was hiding it well, but the edge of excitement was there if one looked closely. She was just dying to get home and try the alchemical mixture Harmony had prepared for her. The blonde smiled, and made a shooing gesture.

"No, thanks. I'm good. Go ahead and get home."

Rachel nodded, and took a couple of impatient steps back.

"Okay then, if you're sure?"

Harmony waved her off again, as she hefted her book bag to one shoulder.

"I'm sure. Something's come up that I need to research, and I guess the Library is the place to do that kind of thing. See you later."

Rachel hurried off towards the parking lot, and Harmony pushed through the door and back into the school.

Research. Yeah, right.

* * * * *

The place was one more in a list of inexplicable things she'd encountered today. Yes, it was a functional library, with books full of French poetry, and Russian history, and a collection of old physics textbooks that went all the way back to when physics was a quaint, newfangled concept.

There were also any number of eye-opening bits of mystical, magical strangeness tucked away in odd nooks and corners, and Harmony had spent a fascinating time just prowling around and looking at it all.

For example, the entire room was surrounded by a spell of Aversion. While it was possible for someone to walk into the place, they wouldn't stay long unless they had a compelling reason to be there. And, once they'd left, they wouldn't feel very comfortable about returning.

"Sort of odd, someone putting that on the Library," Harmony had told herself softly, and then she'd investigated further. Mr. Giles' office, it turned out, was walled off by some very tough wards. This was interesting to her mainly in that she hadn't known what a 'ward' was until she came face to face with one, and that particular pile of information promptly spilled out of the Amora memory files and into her head:

'Ward(s): Magical barriers intended to prevent the passage of magical forces or beings. Best thought of as static, 'neutral' spells, wards repel all energies except those keyed to them at the time of their creation. While they can be destroyed via the application of sufficient force, doing so will warn their creator, and may cause more problems than simply leaving them be.'

A cautious prod with one finger revealed that the barrier around the man's office did indeed consider Harmony to be a 'magical being', and it promptly tried to burn the intruding finger to ash. It failed, though she did receive a scorched nail for her trouble. Deciding that the office would have to wait until later, she'd gone on to the shelves. And there she'd discovered something even more interesting than the various spells that had been strewn about the place.

She found the _books_.

They, too, were protected by spells of Aversion. She had probably walked past them over and over, when she'd ventured in on rare occasions to retrieve a book for this or that assignment. No doubt every student who ever came in here walked right past without seeing them, or at least without noticing the odd titles and strangely-hued leather bindings. Today, however, Harmony saw them just fine. Today, she walked along the dozens and dozens of mysterious tomes, and then picked out a handful at random. Carrying them over to the table in the center of the room, she sat down, opened one up, and began to read.

After ten minutes, she began to smile.

"This is what I need," she told the room in a soft, fierce voice. "This one talks about the cosmological geography of this multiverse!" She set it aside and opened up another. "And this one! It's... argh! Okay, not quite the area I'm looking for, but close enough to give me some clues on where my telekinetic spells are going wrong!" She looked across at the shelves of similar books, and her eyes gleamed. "I'll bet I can find what I need in here to fix all my spells, and probably even my spirit summoning. These are the difference in it being decades, or never, and it only taking a few months, or a year at the outside."

She didn't know which tomes she would need, and there was almost too much here for her to even decide where to look first. Giddy with excitement she flipped each one open, and paged through them randomly. Her joy was tempered a bit by how much of what she looked at was in languages that were unfamiliar to her. That would complicate things, but no matter; translations were possible, and far, far easier to manage than doing it all from scratch, all by herself. She found a section on healing spells in one tome, left that open to go back to later, and started on another. This one was an overview of various historical figures of note, all of them possessing some magical talent or other that made their place in history significant. It was here that she paused, flipped back to the beginning of one particular chapter, and started reading the entry again.

Ten minutes later, she sat back in her chair with a puzzled look on her face.

"Oh. _That's_ what a Slayer is." Tugging thoughtfully at a braid, she stared across the room at nothing. "If that's what she does, though, then why are there still vampires lurking around town? Are there too many showing up all the time for her to keep up with? Wouldn't the smart ones just leave instead of chancing her Slaying them?"

Before she could consider the question any further, however, the doors to the Library swung open, and a figure in tweed pushed his way in, briefcase tucked under one arm and his glasses in hand. She sat bolt upright as his eyes rose to meet hers, and she pasted a smile on her face as he nodded in recognition.

"Oh. Hello, Harmony. Is there something you needed?" With that he headed over, and she swept one hand up, magic tingling through every nerve in her body.

* * * * *

Rupert was still replaying his latest conversation with Ms. Calendar when he entered the Library, polishing his glasses with his handkerchief as he basked in the memory of her impish smile. She really was quite charming... in her slightly maddening, American way of course. When he looked up to find Harmony sitting in Willow's favorite research chair, he stopped short for a moment, frowning. It was odd to find any student other than Buffy, Willow or Xander in here, as they were the only ones besides himself who were exempt from the spells that kept most people at bay. Even more odd for it to be Harmony, who was certainly not any kind of serious student, and usually had to be force-fed any information unrelated to dating, make-up, or cheerleading.

"Oh. Hello, Harmony. Is there something you needed?" He glanced down to check his glasses, found them clean, and replaced them on his nose, tucking his handkerchief away as he crossed to where the girl sat. There were several sizable books lying open in front of her, and she smiled up at him winningly as he leaned over to scan their contents.

_'Castles of Britain', 'A history of medieval palaces and fortifications', 'King Arthur: His Legend and Legacy'_. He looked up at her in surprise. "This is for a class?"

She nodded.

"Um, yep! It's a whole history thing Ms. Arrington has us doing. I think the woman is permanently stuck in the middle ages or something." She rolled her eyes with feeling. "I really don't know what the heck any of this means, but if she tells you to do the research thing, then you--"

"--Do the research thing," he finished for her. "Quite. Very well, you seem to be doing all right, here. Do let me know if you need any help?"

"Abso-tively!" she assured him cheerily. Shaking his head and bemoaning the slightly horrifying results of the American educational system, he retreated to his office. That magical probe he had felt earlier, outside, was even more troubling than the thought of Harmony loose in his library. He had tracked down and questioned Amy about it, and she had vehemently proclaimed her innocence. Still, it would perhaps be wise to keep an eye on the girl, in case her mother's legacy were to manifest in her....

* * * * *

Harmony watched the Englishman disappear into his little office, and then heaved a sigh of profound relief. She'd had only the briefest of moments to cast her spell, when he'd looked down to fiddle with his glasses. She'd been sure he would catch some part of it out of the corner of his eye, but apparently he really did need those glasses to see properly, and she'd gotten away with it. Looking again at the books on the table, she waved her hand over them. The hasty illusion faded, revealing them for what they actually were, and she smiled in quiet triumph.

"Okay, maybe I'm not made _entirely_ of fail after all." Moving stealthily, she gathered up the books, carried the pile over to the shelf, and then made a few quick substitutions, trading out the ones that were entirely in weird languages for some that she could at least mostly manage. A moment's searching got her some random books from other shelves to replace the ones she was borrowing, and some careful spell work laid illusions on them to change their appearance to match as well. Stepping back, she couldn't see anything obviously wrong with her little trick. Unless someone actually pulled out a fake and opened it, they should pass inspection. By pouring as much energy into her illusions as possible, she got the spells solid enough to last all the way till Monday morning... probably.

Glancing up to make sure Mr. Giles was still in his office, and otherwise occupied, she gathered up her research material.

"Gee, and here I thought I'd never volunteer to do homework," she whispered, and stifled a quiet laugh. A quick spell muffled the sound of her boot heels on the hard floor, and then she was tip-toeing her way towards the door. She did _not_ want him to come out and try to check out the books for her according to normal procedure. It was kind of unlikely that he would let her, if he got a look at what she was going to be reading over the weekend.

It turned out to be a non-issue; he never looked up from his work, and she made it to the door without any problem. She slipped out into the hall, and then headed off to where detention was being held. Fawn had mentioned that Trent was in there today, and when he got out she was going to ask him for a ride home. He would say yes, she was sure of it. _He_ was a good guy, after all. Which was why when she kissed him in thanks, there wouldn't be any magic involved.

* * * * *

The song Harmony sings a bit of is of course a real one: 'Sexy, Naughty, Bitchy', by Tata Young.


	7. Books, Boys, and glowy cat toys

"--Then the little mini-Napoleon man went and gave me detention, when it wasn't my fault, in any way whatsoever, that Ms. Landis found a box of live mice in the supply closet when she went looking for copier toner," Trent was saying as he drove her home. Harmony arched an eyebrow at him, even as she reached up to fiddle with the rear-view mirror.

"How is it not your fault?" she asked. "Weren't you the one who put them in there?" He gave a dismissive sort of shrug.

"Well, yeah."

She turned the mirror so that she could see her face reflected there, made a pleased sound, and then began scrutinizing her reflection carefully.

"Isn't that pretty much the definition of 'your fault', then?"

Trent flipped on the turn signal, frowned at the mirror she'd commandeered, and glanced quickly over his shoulder to make sure it was clear before he made the turn onto Parkmore drive.

"Nope," he answered a moment later. "Because the copier toner isn't even _in_ that closet. Any pain, suffering, or soiled underwear that woman suffered, I say she brought it on herself. "

Even occupied as she was with admiring her face in the mirror, Harmony had to laugh. She looked over, saw Trent grinning, and shook her head as she pulled the cosmetics bag out of her backpack.

"And the reason the mice were in there in the first place?" she asked. He watched as she spread various items out atop the largish books resting on her lap, selected a nice powder blush and soft brush, and began repairing tiny, mostly imaginary flaws in her makeup.

"It's the Underground Railroad," he said, with a determinedly composed expression. "That closet was just a way station for those mice on the long road to freedom... or at least the long road to the park across the street, whichever ended up being closer." Brush poised in mid-air, she shot him a look, and he ducked his head . "And also--Fawn asked me to do it. Those were the mice that were going to get fed to the snakes in the biology lab, and she begged me to rescue them."

Harmony smiled, and continued brushing on a carefully-measured layer of powder, blending it in with effortless skill.

"That's sweet. Somehow I didn't take you for the hero type."

Trent gave a small, resigned sigh.

"This hero would much rather have gotten away with it, instead of getting caught. It was kind of impossible to be stealthy, though, trying to grab the little buggers and get outside, when everyone on the floor came running to see what Ms. Landis was screaming about."

"Did you get them out? Or are you going to have to explain to Fawn that the cute, helpless, fluffy little things got served up to the nasty, evil snakes for dinner?" She turned her face from side to side, surveying the results of her new and improved skills. It wasn't easy to tell, given the small mirror and the motion of the car, but it looked pretty amazing. _She_ looked amazing... and the awesome part was that she could rely on that being the normal state of affairs from now on.

"No, no sacrifices to the snake gods today; the mice were saved." He braked for a traffic light, glanced up to check the rear-view, and frowned again. When they'd come to a stop he pointedly cleared his throat. She looked over at him, puzzled, and Trent reached across to pull down the sun visor on her side. "You know, you _do_ have a mirror of your very own, right here."

Harmony flipped the little panel down, found the larger mirror there, and adjusted it so that she could see herself.

"Oooh, perfect!" Her hand intercepted his as he tried to reposition the rear-view, and she glanced back and forth from mirror to mirror, taking in the two views of the exquisite beauty reflected there. Just as she'd thought; thanks to the touch-up her makeup looked utterly flawless. "That's much better; thanks." Putting away the powder brush, she dipped into her bag again, chose a dark red lipstick, and unscrewed the cap. She'd gone with a fairly light pink that morning, since that's what had worked best with her old, slightly washed-out coloration. Through the course of the day, however, she'd come to the realization that the deep gold of her new hair, and the cleaner, finer lines of her features demanded deeper, bolder shades to properly set them off.

"Well, I think you are a hero, even if you did end up with detention. Most people wouldn't have done that, just to make a girl happy." She considered that, then amended her statement with a slight smile. "Okay, most guys wouldn't have done it for a girl they're not dating."

Trent laughed at the qualifier.

"I guess so. The rules _are_ a little different, if you're trying to impress a girlfriend, or even a potential girlfriend." Harmony nodded, wielding the lipstick's tiny brush applicator deftly, despite the movement when the light changed and the car accelerated once more.

"Fawn is adorable, though, and super-nice besides," she said. "I can't believe either you or Cody aren't already dating her. If you're thinking about trying for her then you'd better move fast, because otherwise I think I'm going to find someone to set her up with."

The car swerved just a little, and he shot her a look of surprise.

"Huh? I mean... _huh_?"

She shrugged, studied herself in the mirrors, and then went back to work with the brush.

"I'm just saying. She's way too cute, and sweet, not to have someone be madly in love with her. So I'm going to make sure that happens."

It was strange. She hadn't really thought about it until that very moment, and yet she meant every word. It was probably an odd thing to be considering, given that she'd spent less than an hour with the girl so far, and really barely knew her.

_There's just something about her that makes me feel all warm and protective. And a teeny bit naughty, too, with the wanting to see if she would really say no to me trying to kiss her...which is still a very weird thing for me to be thinking of doing in the first place. Besides that, though, I like her; I want to take care of her. So I'm going to make sure someone kind and good falls totally in love with her: I think I can pretty much guarantee that happening, too._

She took the lipstick brush away, pursed her lips in a sexy pout to gauge the result of her work, and then flashed her a reflection a self-satisfied smile. The richer color _definitely_ worked better for her, especially given the new intensity of her smoldering, emerald green eyes. It was about then that she felt someone else's eyes staring at her as intently as she was herself, and looked to her left. Trent was indeed staring (at least, he stared as much as possible while still paying enough attention to the road to keep from wrecking the car).

"What?"

He sent a quick, half-puzzled little smile in her direction, then gave the road his full attention.

"You're, um...." An uncomfortable moment or two passed, and then he tried again. "Okay, try not to take this the wrong way or anything, but you're not at all what I expected you'd be like." He frowned out the windshield, considered that, and rephrased. "Actually, in some ways you're _exactly_ like I expected... except even that part has this strange, sideways sort of slant that makes you not nearly as annoying as a Cordy-clone is supposed to be."

She frowned at him, her hands slowly, automatically putting away her things.

"You thought I'd be annoying?" It didn't come out sounding angry; she genuinely wanted to know. Harmony was fairly sure she _had_ been annoying, and for all she knew, the changes since yesterday hadn't improved things much at all. Maybe she'd even gotten worse.

He glanced over at her, then ahead again as he made the turn onto her street, and his expression was one of bemusement.

"Harmony, _all_ of the cheerleaders at our school are annoying. Actually, they're just the worst subset of the whole obnoxious, conceited, 'we're the rich and uber-hot royalty and the rest of you are merely peasants' caste thing going on at Sunnydale high."

She tried, but was unable to find any kind of argument against that, because it was true. Everything, from who could date who, who got invited to which parties, even where someone could sit at lunch or at events like games and prom and the rest... it was all based on a system of status and popularity that might be unwritten, but was no less powerful because of that. Harmony had never questioned it, because thanks to Cordelia, she was on the inside; one of the most privileged of the privileged elite.

_And now I'm completely outside of it, and not just because Cordy has temporarily banished me. They might_ think _they're better than the rest; but I really am better than all of them now. Prettier? Duh! I definitely am, especially if I drop the illusion a little at a time over the next few weeks, and end up showing them what I_ really _look like. The most popular? Well, if today was anything to go by, then yeah, it won't take very long before I'll be a more powerful 'queen of the school' than Cordelia could ever dream of being. _

She looked at her image in the mirror, and knew instinctively what it would be like. If she played the game by the rules everyone else used, she would have the beautiful people playing at being her friends in no time, and they would all start to dress like her, and act like her, do anything to impress her... and they would still be vicious, nasty little souls who enjoyed looking down on anyone even slightly less-privileged than they were.

_No. I mean, yeah, that would be fun and all, in a shallow sort of way, and I'll admit to being as shallow as the next girl. I could probably have anyone I wanted, only no one there is worthy of me now, because I'm a Goddess and they're not... so how can it even really matter to me how popular someone is? I'd rather have real friends for a change, not fake ones. I want people to like me, and to love me, not because I'm beautiful (or at least not_ just _because of that), and not because I used magic on them, either. I'm going to pick the people I want, not the people who are in the right group, or are pretty enough, or popular enough, or highest up on the social ladder. So yes, Fawn, even though a lot of people look down on her for one reason or another. And Rachel too, because she was nice to me, even when I wasn't very nice to her. And Cody, and Kiara... maybe Kelsey, if she'll have me...._

And maybe even Trent, here, provided he hasn't already decided I'm a complete freak.

That last part, because even though he'd pulled up in front of her driveway a few seconds ago, Harmony was still looking in the mirror while lost in thought, and was lovingly winding her hair around and around her fingers, admiring the way her long nails gleamed softly against the shining gold.

"Guess I can't exactly deny membership in the 'conceited and self-absorbed' clique you hate so much, huh?" she asked, smiling ruefully over at him. "I'm kind of the new poster girl for the 'I'm hotter than you mortals can possibly comprehend' club."

_I probably shouldn't mention that in my case that slogan happens to be literally true._

"And I can see how someone like me could get on your nerves," she continued. Because Trent, as it so happened, had a bit of a reputation as 'sarcastic and cynical' guy, and as someone who refused to tolerate anything or anyone he deemed fake, or arrogant, or pretentious. Which, hard as she might fight against it, described Harmony's new self even more accurately than it had the old version.

"So I understand," she finished, moving to gather up her backpack from the floor at her feet. "If you'd rather not be around me, I'll try to stay out of your way. Just let me know if you're feeling crowded by me hanging out with Cody or Kiara or--"

"Wait, stop, hold on a second," he said, interrupting her. "That's not what I meant at all. I told you before; you're not like I thought you'd be."

She regarded him uncertainly.

"But I _am_ all the things you talked about. My parents have money, I'm way self-centered, and you're _never_ going to find anyone more hung up on their looks than I am." She was still playing with her hair, and she flicked one of the narrow braids at him to emphasize her point. He caught it before it could strike his chest, and refused to let go when she tried to pull it back.

"You're at least half-way rich, and you're _completely_ hot," he acknowledged. "And it's true that in my entire life I've never met anyone more obsessed with themselves, but you're not a bitch about any of it, and you do still manage to care about other people... and that's what surprised me more than anything else about you." He grinned at her look of disbelief, and gave her braid a little tug. "You think any of the other cheerleaders, or another single person in that crowd you run with would care about Fawn being happy? They'd rather tear her to shreds about what happened to her brother, or make jokes about all the tutoring she needs just to pass her classes. If anything, I expected you to try and trash her, because she's pretty, and not part of your circle."

Harmony made a puzzled little pout at that, for once not taking time out to consider how sexy it made her look.

"Why would I do that? Fawn's completely adorable. I've only known her for one day and I like her; give it a week and I'll probably be crazy in love with the girl."

Trent blinked a few times at that, momentarily at a loss for words, and Harmony felt herself blush.

_Um, not how I meant that to come out, obviously. Because really, that isn't something I want to have happen, with me and her._

Really.

"Aaaanywaaaaay," he said, obviously restraining himself from commenting on that particular verbal misstep. "Like I was saying, you're not a bitch. Which is pretty remarkable, given how you look, and who you hang out with. And word is you're even taking a stand against her royal highness Ms. Chase, by allowing yourself to be seen with that one girl, the one with the really bad skin." He gave her a tiny smile, and touched the little braid he still held to his temple in a mock salute. "I like that. It makes me feel hopeful about you maybe actually turning out to be a worthwhile human being."

She shrugged, feeling a little embarrassed while at the same time lapping up the compliments like a cat presented with a bowl of cream.

"Well of course everything you say is true, because I am the most beautiful, thoughtful, brave and all-around wonderful girl in the entire world," She heaved a dramatic sigh. "It's not easy being this perfect, you understand, but I do my best."

"As a duly-appointed representative of the great unwashed masses, allow me to say that milady's efforts are greatly appreciated," Trent told her dryly. She grinned, and flipped her hair back over her shoulder as best she could while sitting in the car.

"Just kidding, obviously." She waited for him to nod, then finished her thought. "I'm really not brave at all. Everything else, though--absolutely true."

He laughed again, though behind her own amusement she was eyeing him thoughtfully.

"I suppose I ought to tell you that _you're_ not what I was expecting, either," she told him, more seriously. "Word around school is you're a very mean, snarky, not-so-nice person."

His smile became a bit more subdued at that, and he tugged on her braid again.

"That depends on a lot of things, not least of which is who I happen to be dealing with at the moment. If it's one of those cro-mag jocks, or a petty, selfish, completely narcissistic cheerleader, then that's probably a pretty accurate assessment."

She felt herself becoming steadily more interested in the boy, and leaned the slightest bit closer.

"What about when you're dealing with a kind, _caring_... completely narcissistic cheerleader?" she asked, a mix of playfulness and genuine curiosity taking hold of her. "What are you like then?"

His eyebrows raised at that, though he didn't miss a beat.

"I can honestly say that's not a mix of personality traits I thought I'd ever find in one person. After today, though...." He made a show of thinking it over, and finally shrugged. "Sorry, you've stumped me. I have no idea what I'd do or say. Although...." He cocked an inquiring eyebrow at her, his fingers still playing with the intricate braid of golden hair he held. "My reaction would probably be largely determined by whether or not this hypothetical girl was currently dating a very large football player. A football player who wasn't exactly known for his self-restraint even _before_ he started abusing steroids."

She laughed in response to the implied question, though without much actual humor.

"Bryan? Nope, that's way over." She frowned, shifting the heavy tomes she held in her lap so that she could face him more fully. "I mean, I might have to see him a couple more times before he gets it through his head that things _are_ over, but that's it. 'Seeing' only for Bryan from now on; his 'touching' privileges have been permanently revoked."

"Good," Trent said, with feeling. "That guy is a complete dick, and it really pisses me off that he told all his fellow goons about what he got you to do, with the--" He stopped, and actually blushed, looking more than a little embarrassed. "Sorry, I shouldn't bring that up. I'm sure it's all lies anyway. Just something else for the gorillas to laugh about while they're picking fleas off each other in the locker room."

She smiled sadly, and shook her head.

"I wish it _was_ a lie, but its not. I really am that stupid sometimes." She indicated her braid, and pulled at lightly, though he still wasn't willing to surrender it. "Remember; blonde. And a cheerleader. So don't go expecting me to hold up my end of the conversation if you start off on philosophy, or politics... or, well, anything more complicated than Jem and the Holograms, or knowing which shoes go best with which outfit."

He frowned, and made a rude noise.

"Sorry, I gotta call bullshit on that one. You are _way_ smarter than you let on when you're at school. All I can figure is that Bryan got you insanely drunk or something before he pulled that cola thing. What is it, you don't want people to know you were drinking?"

She shrugged, preferring not to shatter his image of her as someone clever.

"Thanks. Not many people accuse me of being smart."

_It's something I hadn't thought of before, though,_ she realized suddenly. _Hanging out with new people; Trent, and Fawn, and hopefully Angela... I won't have to act dumb around them. None of them have been around me enough to know what I'm 'supposed' to be like, they only know what they've heard... and everybody knows that gossip is wrong more often than it's right._

After that they sat and looked at each other for what seemed like a long time, though it was probably only a few seconds. Harmony could see that he wanted to do something, or say something, so she waited until he was ready to do or say it. He realized what she was doing, too, and a grin came and went in an instant. For the first time that day she saw Trent actually looking a little nervous, and when he finally put his words together she cocked her head to the side and listened attentively.

"Listen, you, uh, know that James is having one of his stupid parties tonight, right?"

A completely neutral nod seemed appropriate there, as she answered.

"I heard something about it, yes."

Trent cleared his throat.

"Well, if you're going, I could swing back by and pick you up--" He hurried on, as if Harmony had laughed at him, though she'd done nothing of the sort. "If you wanted me to, that is, because if we're both going then I'd love to give you a ride." She watched as he closed his eyes in pain, visibly steeled himself to continue as if that hadn't happened, and then opened them again. "To give you a ride to the party." He was, of course, asking her for a date without actually asking her, which would make it much easier for her to say no without anyone suffering too massive a blow to their dignity.

Harmony thought it over.

_I think I like him. He's smart, and he has a sense of humor, and he's willing to get into trouble rescuing mice just because a friend asked him... that's not a bad start_. Of course there was more to it than that, starting with the visual. Even though she wasn't going to let herself be trapped into the Sunnydale High class-system for determining who she could legally date, she was as choosy as most when it came to the looks department. Like she'd argued in class earlier that day, appearance _did_ matter. Fair or not--and she freely admitted that it wasn't--she would have trouble dating a total troll, no matter how great his personality. Trent, fortunately, wasn't especially hard on the eyes.

He was a little over six feet tall, which was good because that meant she wouldn't have to bend down very far to kiss him, even when she wore heels. He was a little too thin for her tastes; there was an unfinished look to him that fifteen or twenty pounds of muscle would cure perfectly. His face, too, was narrow, with strong, bony features, and at first glance it was too harsh for attractiveness. His generally easy-going nature softened it, though, and the sharp-edged humor in his eyes tilted the balance the rest of the way.

_And he wants me. This, the guy who just last month filled up every football player's locker--_and _the cheerleader's lockers, too, with garbage, and then left it there for the smell to soak in over the whole weekend... this is the boy asking me out on a date. He's not just drooling over my body, either, even when being around me is probably messing with those teenage boy hormones on a epic scale._

"Sorry," she told him, before the silence could stretch too long. "I already decided not to go." His eyes darkened with disappointment, and hurt, and the rote, polite words of understanding started to spill forth... only to be forestalled when she put her finger to her lips in a shushing gesture.

"I decided not to go, but having you offer to take me is almost enough to make me blow off this homework and go anyway." His eyes fell to the several heavy books she held, the ones from the library that were too big to fit in her pack with the others.

"Almost?" The disappointment was still there, though the hurt was fading. She nodded solemnly, even as her eyes showed something of the growing heat that was slowly filling her.

"A very close 'almost'." She shook her head regretfully, sending ripples down the wealth of hair that had spilled forward past her shoulder again. "Seriously, I'd love to spend some time getting to know you," _And you can take that any way you like,_ she thought with a brief, wicked smile. "This project came out of nowhere, though, and there's a ton of reading that I've got to get started on tonight. If it were even a teeny bit less dire, then believe me...."

He grinned, faintly, and shrugged his acceptance.

"Okay then, maybe some other time." He still wasn't happy, and neither was she, really. There were several reasons not to go out on a date with him, some of them selfish, and at least one of them motivated by a very real concern for his safety.

_Because I honestly have no idea what having sex with me will do to a human being. Seriously. It might break his mind, or turn him into my babbling slave, or even just kill him because I forget to control my strength for half a second. I won't really know till I try it with someone... it's just not going to be him._ She shuddered slightly, at the waves of tingling sensation that rolled up and down her body, to finally settle in a delicious, tickly, very frustrating mass somewhere below her tummy. _And let's face it. The way I'm feeling right now, if I go on a date with someone, there_ will _be sex involved._

Epic, superhuman, earth-shaking sex.

This, coming from the girl who never had an orgasm when someone else was driving; who used to only do it with her boyfriends because otherwise they would dump her. Now here I am, slowly going insane because I can't wait to pounce on someone like a hungry tiger. 

The books in her lap slid into the floor, unheeded, as she pulled herself slowly across the center console, so that she could lean into him and carefully, cautiously take his lips with her own.

_Mmmmmm...._

It was more difficult than she'd thought it would be, keeping herself from letting her magic roar through the connection like a flood, to drown him in an irresistible need to love her. Even if her powers were reduced now from what they should be, she'd seen with James that there was still a significant effect on the recipient. So she held back, using all her self-control to leave Trent's mind and emotions untouched. Untouched, that is, except for what a normal, non-magical kiss from her would have done to him.

She pulled back, slightly, and smiled at his slightly stunned look.

_Ha! No quick riposte for that one, Mr. Smart Guy? _

Moving slowly, teasingly, she reclaimed the narrow braid he'd been holding all this time. Carefully, deliberately, she looped it over his head, winding it around his throat once, then twice. The second, third, and fourth braids soon followed, alternating the direction she wound them, the first one clockwise, then the second one counterclockwise around his neck. When she was done she held the loose ends in her hand, effectively tying them together with less than a foot separating their faces. Multiple spells suggested themselves to her, ranging from simple lust-enhancers, through complex love enchantments, to one that would render him a magically-controlled robot, completely under her control so long as she left a single hair tied like a pet's collar around his throat.

She pushed them all away, and kissed him again. He met her halfway this time, and she _did_ let just the merest trickle of her power move outwards from her lips and into his mind. Not to twist or change or control, but to _taste._

With Bryan, and, truthfully, with pretty much every other boyfriend she'd ever had, there had been no way to really know what the person was like, ahead of time. No way to know if there was cruelty hiding behind a smiling face, or if sweet words concealed an indifferent, unfaithful soul. Now... well, _now_ she did have a way to know what was there before it had a chance to hurt her.

She couldn't read his mind, not like this, anyway. What she did was take a tiny sip of who he was, of his very essence, and then consider it as a master wine-taster might contemplate an unknown vintage.

_Desire; he desired her, though of course that was a given. A fierce mind; prickly and easily moved to anger, though always rigidly controlled. A dark humor, laid over numerous hurts that went back through the years. A wide swath of kindness, though often hidden. A dash of shyness, strong walls that isolated a powerful sense of uncertainty. And, overlaying everything else, strong bonds of devotion to the few he called friend, that held firm even when the relationships were thrown into conflict._

Her eyes had closed during the kiss, when she pulled away again she opened them.

_Mm. He's yummy. I think I'll keep him._

"Whoa," was Trent's take on things, in a voice breathless with wonder. She smiled at him, and it was her turn to tug on one of the braids that bound them together.

"I wasn't blowing you off when I said I had homework to do tonight. I _will_ go out with you, first chance I get. Promise."

He nodded slowly, and his smile grew like dawn breaking.

"I'd be honored," he told her, in complete sincerity. She smiled back, though it really seemed unfair to go any further without giving the poor guy at least _some_ warning of what he was getting himself into.

"You need to be careful," she told him softly. "If you date me, you _will_ fall in love with me. Completely, hopelessly, totally in love with me. And there won't be any escape for you after that; not ever. So be very sure that's what you want, before you go any further."

Trent grinned, looking a little more like himself.

"Are you trying to scare me away? Or is this more of that thing where you have an immodestly-high opinion of yourself?"

"Nope, I really am that awesome," she told him, watching his lips as he spoke, and wondering if her control was good enough for more kissing. She decided not to risk it, and started unwinding her braids from around his neck. He helped her, though of course his hands ended up on hers, gently caressing the soft perfection of her skin as he looked into her eyes.

"I think I'll live dangerously, and see what happens."

She sighed, happier now that she'd made at least some small concession to her conscience... and still come away with what she'd wanted.

"All right then," she said, reluctantly. "I really should be going."

Because if she stayed in the car much longer, she might give in to the ever-increasing temptation to see just how he would react to her, were she to share with him the sweetness and ecstasy that only a Goddess could offer. Sure, his car was parked right in front of her house, in broad daylight. That didn't have to stop her, when she had an illusion spell that would hide anything they might do. Trent looked to be waging a similar struggle, and she didn't want to rely on a male doing the right thing, or the smart thing; not when faced with the temptation she represented. Therefore she gathered up her backpack, opened the car door, and stepped out into the street.

"Thanks for the ride home," she said, giving him her sunniest, most dazzling smile, as if the last few minutes hadn't happened. "I keep trying to get daddy to trust me with a car, but so far no luck."

He smiled back, visibly relaxing as she got out, and the incredibly thick sexual tension dissipated a little.

"Dads can be like that sometimes," he told her amiably. She leaned into the car to gather up the old tomes she'd taken from the library, very much aware of the way his eyes followed her every move.

"I'll see you later," she said, and his return nod was emphatic.

"Most definitely."

She straightened, closed the door, and then waved and started up the drive. Halfway there she glanced back and saw him still watching her, though he made a show of lifting his head to stare up at nothing, and started whistling aimlessly when he saw she'd caught him at it. She laughed in delight, and he waved at her, and then put the car in gear and drove off.

"See? I have tons and _tons_ of self-control," she told herself, walking up towards the house. She wasn't going to risk someone like Trent, either his body or his soul, for no reason other than she needed to scratch an itch.

Even if that itch was driving her to distraction, and getting stronger every minute.

Pushing those thoughts away as best she could, Harmony walked the rest of the way up to the house.

"At least this proves that I do still like boys," she mused. "Between Angela and Fawn, I was seriously starting to wonder...."

Walking around to the back door, she stopped short at the steps that led up to the deck.

_I still don't have any keys._

Her mother's car was in the garage; she could see the Porsche from where she stood. Even so, the woman would have been gone most of the day for her usual spa visit, and her father had promised that he would take care of things, so....

Harmony set her pack and the large books down on the steps, then went over to the fake rock under the third shrub over. picking it up, she found a shiny new key waiting for her, the tag from the locksmith still in place, and she smiled with relief.

_I love my daddy. I really do._

Bouncing happily back to the stairs, she grabbed up her things, climbed to the door, and used the key to unlock it. Maneuvering carefully with her ungainly load of backpack and ancient tomes, she didn't notice what was lying in wait for her until it was far too late.

"So you finally decided to stop making a spectacle of yourself and come inside," came a cold, biting voice. She whirled, only to find her mother there, glaring, just a few feet away. "What happened? Your old boyfriend get tired of fucking you, so you're already holding tryouts to find the next one?"

Taken aback despite herself, her good mood of a moment earlier gone without a trace, Harmony did her best to keep her face expressionless.

"Oh. Hi. Nice to see you, too."

* * * * *

Harmony had always lived in terror of her mother; in much the same way she'd always been afraid that monsters lived under her bed, or that everyone was secretly laughing at her behind her back. As it turned out, both of those last two might actually be true, instead of the one she'd been sure about before the revelations of last night.

_I'll have to check the house for spirits and wights and, um, other sorts of evil beasties,_ she told herself nervously, in an attempt to not shrink back when the one very real evil denizen of the house stalked right up to her. Eileen glared down at her daughter, taking her usual pleasure in being able to physically intimidate the girl. This time around, however, it didn't work quite as well as expected. She didn't realize it, but the woman wasn't staring at Harmony's eyes... she was staring at a point just below her daughter's chin, and it was the younger woman who was looking down on her.

_This illusion that's disguising my height... it's kinda confusing,_ she thought to herself, while struggling not to break out in a nervous grin. _She thinks she's looking at me, when I'm really up here. I have to pretend I'm still five inches shorter than she is, though. At least it only does this when I'm standing up, and things are most obvious. Otherwise that whole thing with Trent in the car would have been even stranger, with him staring at my boobs the whole time, instead of just when he thought I wasn't looking. _

"Well? Nothing to say for yourself?" Her mother's voice was always louder than it needed to be when she spoke to Harmony, and it was grating enough to leave her feeling battered and bruised afterwards, even though Eileen had never laid a hand on her in anger.

Well, so long as you didn't count the occasional poke and pinch, and, when she was younger, a slap here and there, though her father had put a stop to _that_ when after he'd caught her mother at it.

"What do you want me to say?" the girl asked, her voice faint and thin.

"How about you explain to me this thing with whatsisname, this Bryan. You know, the one you let him fuck you, and then talk you into using a soft drink as birth control." The sneering and the contempt hit Harmony like blows, and she took an unsteady step back, her brief amusement about her newfound height already forgotten.

"That wasn't my fault," she told her mother beseechingly. "He _told_ me that's what everyone does, and there wasn't any reason for him to lie to me, I thought. He's been my boyfriend for--"

"You thought. _You_... thought." Eileen laughed, the sound brief and bitter. "Maybe you should have _thought_ before you let him violate you. Or at least before you let him talk you into letting him do it without any protection." She shook her head, her eyes hard. "You stupid girl; do you even _know_ how to keep your legs together?" Harmony's mouth was hanging open; she tried to say something, anything, to defend herself... only she couldn't. Her mother was mean, and cruel, and awful... and she was also right: it was all Harmony's fault. She'd been so incredibly stupid, and gullible, and had let Bryan take advantage of her. If she hadn't let him, he couldn't have done it. How could it be his fault, then? She knew that wasn't true, not completely, anyway, and still, right then she believed it.

She hung her head, and stared at her mother's stylish, expensive shoes, and said nothing.

"I suppose we'll have to get a pregnancy test for you now," Eileen continued, the harshness in her voice falling into the background for a moment. "And while we're at it, I'll make an appointment for the doctor to check you for STD's; if you're sleeping around like this there's no telling _what_ you've picked up already."

The girl wanted to snap back an answer to that, to say that she wasn't 'sleeping around', she'd only been doing things with her boyfriend that everyone _expected_ her to do with him... only she couldn't very well say that. Just as she couldn't say that Amora had spells that were a hundred percent effective at preventing pregnancy... even though Asgardians only rarely had children anyway, and they never, ever contracted earthly diseases of any kind.

All of those were things she _wanted_ to say, and couldn't.

"I dumped Bryan today," was what she said instead, softly. "He's a horrible person, and even if I was being dumb, he shouldn't have--"

"You dumped him, and here you've already got a another one sniffing after you!" Her mother snapped, overriding her. "I was watching; I'm sure everyone on the whole _block_ was watching, when you were letting him paw you in his car just now!" Eileen stalked around her daughter, eyeing her like she was a particularly unworthy beggar she'd encountered in the street. "I suppose you'll be letting this new boy have his way with you, too? What, are you just letting everyone at school pass you around like a toy? Is that all you've learned at that school?" She stopped, gave a sniff of disdain, and grabbed a handful of the girl's hair. "Besides how to use blonde-in-a-bottle, that is." She rubbed the golden strands between her fingers, hard, and then threw it down, hard enough to yank painfully at Harmony's scalp, and start tears from her eyes. "I suppose you got the money for this new stuff from your father? Or have you been in my purse again?"

"Mom, I _never_ got in your--"

"Don't lie." She stalked off to stand framed in the doorway to the front parlor, very consciously striking a dramatic pose with her hands on her hips. At forty-one, Eileen Kendall remained a remarkably attractive woman. She was tall, and her body had the sort of faintly desperate fitness of an older woman who dieted and exercised with religious zeal. Her hair was dark blonde, and cut in a style that left it fitted to her head like a sleek helmet, the ends touching the exact center of her neck. She knew she was attractive, and it was one more way to make her daughter feel inferior.

Again, that had changed, without her knowledge, though Harmony was having trouble remembering it at the moment.

No, she wasn't feeling beautiful right now; not in the least.

"Just keep this in mind, you stupid little girl," her mother told her in a voice as soft as it was furious. "I talk to people who talk to people, and they tell me things. I know what happens at your school, and I also know about you and all your friends dressing up and running wild last night, as part of some ridiculous Halloween prank." Harmony's eyes widened, and her outrage was enough to overcome the fear and intimidation, at least briefly.

"_Prank?_ That wasn't anyone's idea of fun, that was something that was done _to_ us--!"

"I told you before; don't lie to me." Eileen walked back slowly, her eyes sweeping her daughter up and down. "I don't know what's worse, having you be as plain and boring as a stick someone's dressed up as a girl, or this new, hooker-in-training look." She scowled, the expression almost causing lines to form on her pretty face, though in the end the botox won out over the wrinkles once more. "I won't have this from you, Harmony; I simply won't have it. If you want to sleep around, and drink, and smoke, and do drugs with your friends while you run amok and smash in store windows, at least be smart enough to wait until you're safely married. That way you can blame it all on stress, and make your husband cover the bills for your therapy and rehab."

The girl looked at the floor, and the leg of the kitchen table, and then the base of the refrigerator, when it began to hum quietly to itself. Her mother let her stand there for a full minute, and then turned away.

"That's all. Now get out of my sight."

Without a word, Harmony got her things, and hurried out of the kitchen. She was up the stairs and into the refuge of her bedroom in seconds, and she slammed the door hard enough to crack the frame in two places. The only time it was safe for her to 'act out' like that was right after one of her mother's little talks, since it was unlikely in the extreme that the woman would want to see her again so soon.

Harmony could relate; she never wanted to see her mother again, ever. If she'd had someplace else to go, anyplace at all, then she would have left in that very instant.

"I don't know where Asgard is," she told her room, her voice tiny and lost. "I can remember it, I can see our palace there... but I don't know where to find the bridge, or how to cross it even if I did." She sat on her bed, stared at the posters on her wall, and saw nothing except memories that were not her own.

"I wish I knew where to start looking...."

* * * * *

"Ohh, she's dreaming... dreaming of places far beyond the fields we know. Somewhere she's never seen with her _own_ eyes. And such deceitful eyes they are; so _green_, like frogs and lizards and the little apples that made my tummy hurt when I ate them...." The voice itself was dreamy; an ethereal sing-song like that of a child. "Tell me! Tell me about the walls, and towers, and fierce, tall, handsome people! Over the rainbow, it is, and yet Oz is nowhere to be found! What will the lion and scarecrow and flying monkeys think of such strangeness?" A quiet, indecipherable murmur followed, and then she went on, more loudly. "No, she's never walked there, and yet she misses it so very, very _much,_ the poor dear. Oh, and she's prettier when she cries, isn't she just?"

Spike stopped in the doorway, and watched Drusilla playing with her dolls. Some of them were porcelain antiques they'd taken from the homes of wealthy victims in eastern Europe, and some of them were mere bundles of rags with buttons for eyes, given to her by some innocent children in a small village in Russia, just before she ate them. She was playing with a new one now, some kind of clown or mime doll, he assumed, with a shock of long, pale hair and a face painted half blue and half black.

"She's changing it all 'round, without even trying. There will be ever so much that will have to be done differently, now," the delicate, waiflike vampire whispered to the doll. "Mysteries and magicks and singing that makes no sense at all; I've never even _been_ to Norway. It's cold there, and grim, and I can't tell when the runes are upside down." She frowned, and held the little cloth doll against her ear, and then nodded grimly. "Yes. Yes, a nasty, _naughty_ little tart, she is, flirting with them all that way. She ought to listen to her mum: wear decent clothes, do as she's told, and stay away from the boys until she's properly wed. Then I wouldn't have to fear that she'd come and steal away my... Spike?" Drusilla turned her head, finding him where he stood in the shadowed doorway.

He smiled gently, and moved to take her in his arms.

"I'm here, pet. Just checking in on you before I go out, is all."

She leaned against him, and a fresh pang went through him when he felt how frail she'd become. Holding her as gently as if she were a sculpture of glass, he kissed her. Drusilla tasted of sweet things, with a trace of something faintly rancid underneath; as if the most wondrous fruit in the world had been left a bit too long on the vine. He didn't care; she was everything he'd ever wanted, and he was completely devoted to her.

"Don't go," she told him when the kiss ended. He looked at her in surprise, and she stared at him intently, her dark eyes glittering. "Don't go, Spike. Nothing good will come of that girl."

He gave her a sidelong look, not at all surprised that she knew more about what he'd intended to do than he did himself. His lips quirking towards a smile, he caressed her shoulder lovingly.

"You've 'seen' her, then? This new bird that Harlan ran into?"

Drusilla's usually serene face scrunched up in a look of distaste.

"Not new; the biggest part of her is _old_. Old and new, all mixed up and swirling 'round inside. The boys think she's so pretty; some _girls_ think so too, wicked things. The nuns would punish them _most_ severely." Spike's eyebrow lifted at that, and he would have asked a question, if his lady had not suddenly dipped her head, and looked up at him from beneath her lashes with forlorn hope.

"_You_ don't think she's pretty, do you, Spike? Aren't I your princess?"

He smiled at her fondly, always willing to reassure her on that count.

"No one is more beautiful than you, love." He lifted her hand to his mouth, brushing his lips across her delicate fingers. "My dark goddess, now and forever...." To his surprise her pleased expression flashed over to anger in an instant, and she jerked her hand away.

"There's no such _thing_ as goddesses!" Her voice was low and furious, and she turned back and forth as if she wanted to pace, but couldn't decide which way to go. "They're make-believe, right? _She's_ make-believe; only a fairy-tale, someone from a story, like Goldilocks gone wandering off the pages." She was very upset now, grabbing handfuls of her own dark hair and yanking at it distractedly. "Goldilocks! All horrible and yellow, like sunlight...."

Spike was frowning, not terribly disturbed by the familiar, rapid mood swings, and yet a little unclear about what he was hearing.

"'Make believe'?" he asked. "_Something_ beat the hell out of that git Harlan, and somehow I doubt it was his imagination. I want to go have a look at this girl. If she really can do magic, we need to know who's side she's on."

Drusilla just looked at him, sullen and pouting, now, and when he moved to kiss her once more she turned away. With a sigh, he let her be.

"I'll bring you back some dinner. We're getting closer on finding your cure, you know, and I don't want you wasting away before we can make you all better." She pretended not to hear him, holding the little doll up in the air and bouncing it up and down and side to side, as if it were dancing for her. When he turned to leave, he heard her whispering to it.

"Slipped in through a door that shouldn't have been open, didn't she? The shadows know, they know all about her... and they are _not_ pleased...."

* * * * *

Wards turned out to be surprisingly easy to do, though it might have been Harmony's current state of mind that made building thick walls of protective magic around her room seem so effortless. Sure, the invisible barrier wouldn't keep her thoroughly mundane mother out, but it _did_ make her feel better, knowing that there was something more than simple walls between her and that... woman. An added side benefit, one that she hadn't expected, was the _quiet_. As soon as she finished the last section of the barrier, fusing it with the walls, ceiling and floor of her room, there came a sudden easing of a pressure behind her eyes, one that she hadn't even noticed until it was gone.

"Hey, much better!" she said out loud, flicking her fingers to dissipate the last of the shimmering green magic that still clung to her hands after her work. And it _was_ better. The low, angry growl of the dimensional anomaly apparently filled the entire valley where Sunnydale was situated, though it was an almost subliminal presence once you were a short distance from the school. Even so, it had been there, like a background sound you stopped hearing after a time, and the absence of it now came as a genuine relief.

She went back to her bed, stepping over her discarded boots and backpack, and sat down on the bed beside the stack of huge books she'd brought home. Building the wards had taken most of an hour, and a fair bit of energy besides, though that was partly because she'd been slowed down by the need to search Amora's memories for the details of how to do it, and by her impulse to make the defenses as powerful as she could manage. The end result was a cube of energy enclosing the room that, when viewed with her mystic sight, was almost blindingly bright. Hers were _much_ stronger than the ones she'd encountered in the library, and if any magical being besides herself tried to pass through them, it would get a very nasty surprise indeed.

"And now that I've built my own, I think I understand how to take someone else's apart," she murmured, spreading the books out across the covers. "That should come in handy, when it's time to check out more books. 'Cause I'll just bet that old Mr. Giles keeps the best ones all nice and safe in his office."

Thinking about that made her wonder again; why was their librarian keeping this stuff at school anyway? Even if he was some sort of sorcerer, and apparently he was... didn't the guy have room for his magic stuff in his house? What, was he trying to keep it away from some really nosy roommates? Was the extremely unsecure library really the best option he had? She had no idea, and, short of asking him, she didn't see any way to find out. Whatever, it was great for her, even if it _was_ going to end up costing her a lot of her free time.

Starting right now. Opening up the thinnest of the heavy volumes, she turned to the first page, leaned over to retrieve a notebook and pen from her dresser, and then started reading. Even though this wasn't an actual instruction manual for how to do magic, it did look to have some interesting hints on how certain kinds of mystical energy behaved in this universe. Understanding that might give her some vital clues on how to adjust her own sorcery....

* * * * *

Three hours later, she set the book aside, brushed the tip of her nose a few times with the purple feather that decorated her pen, and considered the implications of the last chapter.

_Huh. Okay, I actually understood all that. More than understood it, even; it was easy. I think this is sort of a 'mystical phenomena for dummies', and not the advanced stuff I'm really going to need to fix my hocus pocus._

Even so, there had been a few interesting nuggets of information in there, not the least of which was an explanation of just what it was that grumbled and snarled to itself beneath the high school.

"Hellmouth," she said aloud, testing the sound of the word. "Boca del Inferno: the mouth of hell. Nice. Or 'charming', as Amora would say." She sighed, sat up, and stretched, waking Josie in the process. "We're definitely not going to go exploring other dimensions through _that_," she told the cat. The feline looked up at her from where she was sprawled in the floor, blinked sleepily, and then stretched out one paw to bat lightly at a small glowing sphere that rested just within reach.

That sphere was only one of several dozen faintly glowing constructs that now littered the room, the byproduct of Harmony's study session. Whenever she'd run across something that seemed related to the lessening of her magic in this universe, she had paused to cast a spell, testing to see if what she'd just read might possibly lead her towards a solution. So far the answer to that was 'no', but she hadn't expected it to be that easy, and remained optimistic. And, at the very least, studying the book had brought more of Amora's magical arsenal up from the depths of her memories.

Shields, for example. It only made sense, now that she thought about it. She had offensive spells (if not very many); it followed that there should be defensive spells too, and true to form, the Enchantress had taken the defense of her precious self very seriously. Harmony now remembered several protective shield spells, which were themselves a combination of both telekinetic and energy manipulation. That allowed them to deflect both physical and energy-based attacks, which was good news. The bad news was that, like most of her other magicks, her shields were much less powerful than they should have been. What should have been a close-fitting aura that would shrug off bullets and energy beams and (especially) vampire fangs, seemed like it would be hard-pressed to keep her dry in a half-way serious rainstorm. The floating disc-like shields that were supposed to stop the most powerful of magical attacks insisted on disintegrating if she so much as thumped them with the _Goblyn hammer_ spell.

Harmony looked at the construct that hovered over the nightstand, wishing she had at least one defensive spell that worked as it ought to. It was entirely too likely that she would find herself in need of some serious protection at some point, and it was equally likely that she wouldn't yet have managed to figure out how to fix her magic before that happened....

"At least I know I've got 'em," she told herself. "And now that I know, I can work on straightening them out."

Besides the shield, there was also a small constellation of lights floating slowly around up near the ceiling, bathing the room in a soft, golden glow. She'd been practicing 'establishing' spells; making them temporarily self-sufficient, so she didn't have to maintain her concentration to sustain them. After doing a few of the glow spheres, however, she'd decided that she liked the warmth of the illumination they provided, and had done a few more, then turned off the harsher electric lights. A few odds and ends were also scattered around the floor; little balls and blocks and simple geometric shapes made from magic. They were variations on the same principle that lay behind the shields; energy that could mimic some of the properties of physical objects. Theoretically she could make impenetrable walls of the stuff. The reality, for now at least, was that they were more like very resilient soap bubbles, albeit very pretty, golden, glowy soap bubbles.

Josie loved playing with them, too, though when their magical 'charge' ran out and they flickered and vanished, she tended to sit and stare at the empty spot for several minutes, as if waiting for them to reappear.

Harmony sat her notebook aside, swung her legs around, and stood up, stretching again, the tips of her nails just barely brushing against the ceiling. New and improved body or not, she was _almost_ stiff from lying reclined on her side for hours. Her former favorite study position had been to lay on her stomach, propped up on her elbows so she could look straight down at the book or papers or whatever spread out underneath her. Obviously there was no way _that_ was going to work any more. Not given the way she'd been 'enhanced'. She looked down at her breasts, not unhappily, but also not without a little exasperation.

"I'm going to have to sleep on my side, or my back from now on, and I hate sleeping on my back. Also? 'Zero sag' does not mean 'zero bounce'." She'd learned that while going up and down the stairs at school earlier in the day, and when she'd run up the stairs to her room earlier, there had been some _serious_ jiggle action.

"Bra shopping, as soon as possible, definitely."

Shopping of every kind was sort of essential, actually, as she didn't have much of anything that would fit her, besides the outfit she'd worn to school. Well, there was the faux-corset thing that she'd been wearing during the Halloween transformation. And the reason she was thinking about which clothes in her closet might still be wearable? That was simple.

"Because I want to go _out_."

Looking at the clock didn't tell her much, since she'd accidentally killed it that morning. Even so, she knew that it was now roughly twenty-four hours since Ethan's spell had transformed her. A full day, and she was still here; smart and cute, and sexy to boot... and that darn itch was really, really begging to be scratched. Not that she was going to go to James' party. For one thing, she wanted to go as herself. Her new self, without any illusions or disguises. That would be a little weird, at a party attended by people who might possibly recognize her. There was quite a bit of difference between 'HarmonyPlus', which is what she'd decided to call her illusionary, more-than-slightly improved self, and her actual, full-on Enchantress self. Even so, there was a fair resemblance between the two, and it wasn't impossible that someone would make the intuitive leap. So... someplace else. Someplace with grownups, and maybe some real food. She was seriously starving, and there was no way she was going downstairs to raid the refrigerator, not while _she_ was down there. Also, she had a powerful craving for some wine. Apparently Amora never did any research without a goblet of the stuff in her hand to sip from (and a pretty servant standing attentively by, ready to refill her cup as needed). Harmony herself had never been much of a drinker; anything with more than a trace of alcohol made her dizzy in a hurry. Even so, just the thought of a nice, well-chilled vintage was making her throat seem drier.

The problem remained, however; what did she have to wear? And more than that, how was she going to get anywhere? Walk?

She padded to her closet, banishing the little glowy constructs in the floor with an impatient wave of her hand (Josie made a 'miow!' of disappointment). Peering inside she frowned, then turned away.

"It doesn't matter. I'm not going to walk, and I can't call anyone, either. No one I know has seen me like this, and I couldn't explain it to them... could I?" She didn't know how that conversation would go, or even how it would begin. It was awful, though, not being able to tell anyone what was happening to her. She thought of calling Cordelia, again, dismissed the idea, again, and flopped back down on the bed.

"This really sucks."

She let herself fall back, expecting the softness of mattress and pillow, and instead promptly smacked the back of her head on the largest of the tomes.

Hard.

"Ow!" Sitting back up, she rubbed at her scalp gingerly, and glared at the offending volume. "You must be a book of _evil_ magic, you," she told it accusingly. "'Cause that was just mean."

Shoving it off the bed, she lay back again, more carefully this time. With her hands folded beneath her head, she looked up at the little lights slowly orbiting up by the ceiling. When one of them flickered and died, she whispered the Word that replaced it with a fresh one, while also executing the mental twist and push that held the tiny spell in place.

_That's easy to do, now. I think I could make them last for a long time, if I really wanted to._

The wards should last a long while, too; if she spent a few minutes on them every week or so, they'd stay active pretty much forever. That was good, since she'd already decided to put them around the entire house, as soon as she had a chance.

_That vampire guy said he could smell me from blocks away. Maybe he was lying, to try and scare me, but then again, maybe not. So... make sure the house is safe, and that daddy and... well, make sure that daddy is safe. Maybe I should get him a cross or something? Do crosses even work?_ She watched the lights, and pulled one hand out from under her head, resting it on her stomach. _It's probably in one of those books I took; I'll find it tomorrow. Though... it seems kind of cheesy, me giving my father some other god's holy symbol. Shouldn't he use_ mine? _Wait, do I even have one?_ A moment's consideration revealed that yes, Amora did have a symbol... just not a very good one. It was basically just her name, spelled out in Norse runes; very lame.

_Viking gods weren't much into graphic design, I guess. No problem, I'll come up with my own version; add that to the list of things to do. Oh, and I really want to find some better paper. I'm not going to use a quill or anything, but that super-thick vellum stuff I used back in Asgard... I mean, that she used... oh, poop, that we used... I want something like that. Maybe a specialty store, or office-supply place could get it for me?_

Her fingers were caressing the bare skin of her belly, where her blouse had crept up a little. She sighed, and smiled slightly at the feel of that soft, taut, _flat_ tummy.

_I hope those fat-buster spells I remember are ones that are working okay, 'cause I really enjoyed eating actual food today. Something else for the list: some cookies to snack on while I'm reading through all these books. And some wine, too. I'll have to try one of those aversion spells, I guess, to keep anyone from noticing it if they come in here._

Her hand was drawing slow, loving circles across her skin, and she noticed that it was slipping a little lower on each pass. She sighed again, a little disappointed despite the little prickles of pleasure that were spreading out from that touch.

_I'd really much rather someone else was doing this for me; doing it to me. Hopefully it won't be long before I have some volunteers?_ Her fingers slipped below the elastic band of her bikini-style panties, and she gave a little shiver of pleasure. Only one thing was missing, and she grinned suddenly as another idea struck her.

_I wonder what daddy would say if I asked to have a mirror put on the ceiling over my bed...?_

It was at that point that she heard something that distracted her, and she froze for a moment while trying to identify the sound. It was a rumble, faint but familiar, and then the sound of....

She sat up, her breathing still a little rapid, and her face still flushed.

It was the sound of a car door slamming.

"Bryan."

Struggling up out of the bed, pulling her skirt up and her blouse down, she hurried to the window. It was well after sundown outside, and in the accent lights that lined the driveway she could see a large form walking from the street, towards the corner of the house. He had been here several times, and knew enough not to use the front door. Harmony quickly raised her window, leaned out, and called softly.

"Bryan!"

He looked up, spotted her, and strode across the lawn to stand under her window.

"Heya, babe." He grinned up at her, his arms spread wide. "Have no fear, your booty call is here!" His voice was much too loud, and she made frantic shushing gestures at him.

Also, she sort of threw up in her mouth, just a little.

_No. Absolutely no way. I don't care how desperate for sex I am, that is never going to happen, ever again. Not with him._

He was looking at her expectantly, while edging towards the side nearest the back entrance of the house.

"So how do you wanna work this?" he asked, still too loudly. "Me just coming up to your room and throwin' you down on your bed, or you coming back to my crib, or... what?" The boy was genuinely confused at why she was gesturing angrily at him to stop. A few moments later his expression abruptly became even more confused, because hadn't realized that somewhere in there her gestures had gone from angry to mystical. When her telekinesis grabbed hold of him he instinctively tried to free himself.

Too late. The invisible gripping force took a few seconds to solidify, but once it was in place, no mere human being was going to escape it. The burly football player found himself rising straight up, to stop on a level with Harmony's window. He stared at her, mouth agape, and the goddess-girl found herself sorely tempted to punch him. Instead, she leaned out of her window, and looked around to make sure no one was watching. Luckily for her, she had a very large yard, and it was heavily-landscaped, with several small trees scattered about. There really wasn't a clear line of sight for any of the neighbors to see her window, and since the front rooms of her own house were off-limits, no one seemed to have heard the noise.

"What the _hell_--!"

Bryan found his voice, and then found her slim, delicate, very _strong_ hand clamped firmly across his mouth.

"_Quiet!_" she hissed. Then she took a breath, and regarded him, and even managed to find a small smile. "Well, what do you know; you're right on time for you next treatment. I guess at least part of that suggestion I planted last time took hold." He stared at her, wide-eyed, obviously not understanding what she was talking about. Harmony didn't bother with explanations. Instead she pulled more energy from the universal flows all around her (ignoring the icky Hellmouth taint that was an unavoidable part of that), and locked the telekinesis in place. Once that was done she was able to let it go, and Bryan remained where he was, suspended fifteen feet off the ground. She nodded, pleased, and raised her free hand.

"Look at me, Bryan. Look at my eyes; aren't they beautiful?"

She drew her fingers across her eyes, and when his gaze found hers she caught his mind in an instant.

_Neato; that was easier than last time. See? Even something as dumb as this can be trained, if you're patient._

"Very good; you're a very good boy, Bryan. You came to see me, just like I told you." She took her hand away from his mouth, slowly, and wiped her palm on his shirt to rid herself of the saliva there.

"Y-you told me to come to your house...." he told her, much more quietly this time. "I'm all rested up, now. Let me in, babe. Go strip down and get the lube, 'cause I'm in the mood for some back-door lovin'--"

"Stop right there," she told him, and his mouth snapped shut.

Again, with the trace of vomit in her throat. She was going to have to brush her teeth for ten minutes to get rid of the taste.

"Listen carefully, Bryan. Don't talk; just listen." He nodded, and she let out a slow breath. "You did good, doing what I told you. You like to do what I tell you. In fact, your entire, miserable existence is going to revolve around doing what I tell you to do; won't that be fun?" He looked at her blankly, and her eyes narrowed. "Nod, Bryan; it _will_ be fun." He nodded, and she smiled. "There you go. Now, I'm going to reinforce that, and it will feel wonderful. You're also going to keep coming here, only more quietly from now on, and you're going to do it first thing every morning, and last thing every night, and that will be wonderful too. Everything you do for me is wonderful, because I am your goddess, and you exist to serve me. Right?" He nodded. "Fantastic. Now, before I do that mental stuff, let's try another dose of the physical."

She put her hands on his shoulders, bowed her head in concentration, and then _reached_. Her transformation magicks might be out of commission, but her healing was working fine, and there was a way to cheat her way around the temporary limits on her powers. Since he was a living being, this should work... she hoped. A full minute passed, and then another, as she poured all the power she had into his body. When she raised her head he was still staring at her, only now there was a confused, faintly terrified gleam lurking in the back of those dazed eyes.

She patted him on the cheek, and then sat back so that she could prop her elbows on the windowsill.

"How did that feel? Good? Bad? Weird?" He couldn't seem to find any words, so she shrugged. "No big deal, I don't really care. You made a big, _big_ mistake when you got on my bad side, didn't you? Because trust me, my bad side can be a really evil bitch." She cocked her head, studied him, and then extended one finger to poke him in the chest. "You think all this is bad? Little man, you don't even _know_ how much poo is in the process of raining down on you." She poked him again for emphasis, looking him over carefully as she did so.

_Nope, nothing showing yet. He looks a little ragged, and tired, but he's still a really good-looking guy. For now._

She moved her hand up so that her fingers were spread across his forehead, and she stared into his eyes.

"Time for some more programming, Bryan. Remember, you come here in the morning, and at night. You don't bother my parents, you don't make a fuss, you just come here and wait for me." She stopped, nibbled delicately at her lower lip, and then smiled broadly. "Oh, and you're going to walk it tonight, and in the morning. Where are your car keys?"

It was still early enough; she could get dressed, find a nice nightspot, have some real fun, and still be back before dawn. It had been a long day, and she was running on only three hours' sleep....

"And it doesn't matter. I feel great!"

_Twenty-four hours and counting, and none of it is fading; not at all._

"How do I look, Bryan?"

Glazed or not, his eyes didn't have any trouble tracking up and down her body.

"Fuckin' hot," he mumbled, as clearly as he could manage while being the mystical equivalent of stoned. "My girlfrin' is totally fuckin' hot...."

"You got that right," she said, fluffing her hair happily.

_Who's a Goddess? Who's a Goddess? I am!_

* * * * *


	8. A night on the town

If Harmony hadn't been looking out her window at that exact moment she wouldn't even have noticed what happened. The wards she'd put in place around her room, invisible to normal sight but as plain to her as a foot-thick sheet of luminous green glass, gave the slightest, faintest, briefest little shimmer, then returned to normal. The girl narrowed her eyes, wondering if she'd really seen the tiny ripple go flickering across the protective barrier's outer surface, or if she had simply imagined it. Extending her mystical senses cautiously, she examined the wards.

_Hm. Nothing seems different, and whatever it was didn't even trigger a real reaction. If that was really an attack or something, it was pretty lame._ She reached out and ran her fingers across the inner layer, where it extended just beyond the physical wall of her room. A slight, pleasurable tingle danced up her arm, spillover from the powerful forces bound up in the mystical defenses. _More likely it was just some random speck of magical fluff hitting the barrier, and going -splat- like a bug on a windshield._

With that small distraction gone, she had no choice but to go back to fretting over the same decision that had occupied her for some time now. Her room, unfortunately, was too small to let her really pace, so instead she wandered around, idly straightening the beautiful figurines of delicate maidens and impossibly graceful unicorns that occupied nearly every flat surface large enough to accomodate them. The slow circuit brought her around to the foot of her bed, and she ended up standing before her dressing table.

The posters and figurines in her room weren't all of unicorns and fairy princesses; the items displayed on either side of her dresser mirror were actually her favorites. On the left side was a poster featuring three minimally-pretty brunettes at the beach, all glaring sullenly at the gorgeous figure in the foreground. That girl wore a blue bikini that showed off her flawlessly tanned and toned body, and with a smug tilt of her head she favored the studly, adoring guys clustered all around with a regal smile. Both of the girl's hands were in her long mane of gloriously golden hair, making it perfectly clear just what set her apart from the girls staring hatefully from the background. The caption at the bottom of the poster read 'Blonde Envy' , and Harmony had spent many an hour staring at it wistfully, wishing she had even a fraction of that other blonde's confidence.

Over on the opposite side of the mirror were three shelves filled with dolls, figurines and even a few small stuffed animals. Several very collectible Barbies peered haughtily down from the highest level, eternally perfect in their original, tightly-sealed boxes. There was also a Rapunzel edition of the doll sitting in the open, posed with her legs dangling over the edge of the shelf. That was the one with platinum-blonde hair that was actually several inches longer than the doll was tall; an absurd, insane amount of gorgeous silken hair. Harmony hadn't been able to resist taking that one out of the package to play with her, even if it did ruin the doll so far as her collectible item status was concerned.

The lower shelves held various lesser figures; porcelain dolls left to her by her grandmother, a fair-sized mob of the little mini-Barbies that fast food places sometimes gave out with kids meals, even a few fairly lame action figures of women from various movies and cartoon series. The one thing they had in common was that they were all pretty, and they were all blonde.

_Well, they're all pretty except for this one,_ Harmony admitted, as she reached out and tapped the figure in question on his little black nose. _Blondie the Elvis-bear here is just plain silly--and I love him anyway._

It turned out that Elvis Pressley's estate would stop at nothing to promote the dead singer, and were perfectly willing to mass-produce little Elvis-themed teddy bears, each of them complete with slicked back hair and a guitar clutched tight in their tiny paws. Harmony's, however, was special. A manufacturing defect had left the little guy with hair that was a shocking white-blonde instead of black, though in every other way he was perfect. The girl poked him lightly in the belly, where his little black leather jacket hung open, and the bear immediately began to gyrate from side to side, while a tinny voice from somewhere inside him sang 'hunka hunka burning love' in time with his rotating pelvis. Harmony laughed.

"Behold the one power on earth mightier than any magic: Ebay," she murmured with a smile, then turned to look into the mirror one last time, and took a breath. "Okay, enough stalling, goddess-girl. Either you're going to do this or you're not; which is it going to be?"

Her reflection looked back at her; the image mute, and thoughtful... and completely stunning.

Her face was perfect--not that she expected anything less, after spending most of two hours working on her makeup. The eyes alone--! She sighed, and leaned in close to examine the exquisitely blended eyeshadow. Her other self, the one who had thousands of years' experience in making herself look fantastic, had not been much impressed with the cosmetics Harmony had on hand. Sure, she had skill enough to make do, it was just a matter of knowing she could have produced even better results, and more quickly, too, if certain (incredibly expensive) products had been available.

It was more than a little strange, having a very snooty, very high-maintenance Goddess merge with one's mind. She could actually _feel_ some of her opinions and attitudes slowly changing as those memories were assimilated, and the slightly scary part was how her new points of view seemed normal and reasonable to her after the fact.

"I was perfectly happy with all my Dior stuff yesterday," she murmured, glancing down at the cosmetics crowding the top of her dresser. "And now I'm not. The rest of it isn't exactly from the bargain bin, either, only now... blech!"

She shook her head; this was only another way of stalling. She looked great, she was ready to go, it was just....

The window was open, showing her a framed view of the night outside. The night where some unbelievably scary monsters were lurking, at that very moment, hunting for juicy morsels like her. Harmony's lips quirked a little at that, despite her nervousness.

"Actually, I doubt any of the monsters have ever tasted anything quite as tasty as _I_ am now; not that being a yummy treat for them would make getting chewed on any more fun." She tried to laugh, and couldn't. She really _was_ a little frightened. Now that she knew what was out there in the dark it would be stupid _not_ to be afraid. Sure, she had some power now; tons (literally) of super-strength, plus a few nifty spells that actually sort of worked... she only wished she didn't have to bet her life on those things being enough to save her, if something nasty happened to stumble into her.

"Having somebody to go out there with me would be nice, right about now," she told the darkness outside the window. "Some tall, strong, kung-fu girl, maybe... even one or two nice high-school boys would make me feel better."

_I could call Trent,_ she thought, not for the first time... and then dismissed the idea again. _No, bad idea. I'm going out to a club because I want to hook up with somebody, and hopefully get some Goddess-powered sex going on. Making him watch while I do that--probably not the best start to what might turn into some serious dating. If I had Angela's number, now... only I don't. And I still have almost no idea what kind of person she is, anyway, so that won't work either. I won't be sure I can trust her to protect me until I track her down and we have a long talk about... things._

So, there she was, back to either going by herself or not going at all. Harmony fidgeted, looked out the window, back at her reflection, then back to the window again.

"Staying in and studying magic all night would be the smart thing to do. Going out, and risking a horrible, bloody death just because I want to have some fun is completely stupid... and I'm not stupid any more."

_Far from it, actually,_ she thought. _The problem is that I'm_ too _smart now; I can visualize quite clearly just how easily two or three of those vampires could overwhelm me, even if I am stronger than they are, and have magic, to boot._

She stared outside, running her hands slowly up and down her upper arms, trying to find comfort in the feel of the smooth silk of her opera gloves, and the even smoother softness of the skin underneath.

"On the other hand... I'm also massively self-indulgent, and _extremely_ vain, now, too...." She turned her head, and unleashed a coy, sexy little look over one shoulder, regarding herself in the dresser mirror. "What's the point of having this face and this body, if I can't go out and flaunt them? I want to have some fun! After what I've been through, I _deserve_ some fun!"

That declaration made her feel much better, and she gathered her fragile confidence around her. Granted, this little adventure was still a foolish, silly thing to do. One might even say it was a very _Harmony-ish_f thing to do... and maybe that was why it felt so important to go through with it.

"Because I'm still me," she told that impossibly gorgeous girl in the mirror, her sultry voice firm and determined. "I can deal with how I feel about certain things changing, so long as I'm still mostly me. So this is me, going out to have some fun. And I'm going now." A decisive nod at her reflection, along with a little _'Hmph!'_ as if to tell it '_So there!_', and then she turned away.

...And then she had to pause for a moment, to work out a small detail she'd overlooked. Namely, how to get outside.

The window was right there, and she'd sort of assumed she'd go that way, only....

Leaning out, she surveyed the situation. The drop to the ground wasn't far, only about fifteen feet. After briefly considering just jumping down, however, Harmony shook her head.

"Nope, better not try it. I'm plenty strong enough, but I don't think my coordination got boosted _that_ much when I changed--being extremely graceful isn't the same thing as being a Ninja." Eying the loose topsoil of the landscaping below, she made a little moue. "Also, it would be a shame if I flubbed the landing and did a faceplant in the flowerbed. That would mean having to do my makeup all over again."

Sneaking out through the house itself was completely out of the question, obviously. She didn't doubt that if she were caught, her mother would launch into yet another awful tirade. Harmony didn't think she could handle that. A levitation spell would work, letting her just float down from the window... except she'd have to be outside the window before casting it, and it would be hard to manage any mystical gestures while hanging from the window sill.

"Guess I'll have to get a little experimental," she whispered, picking up her small, second-best purse as she stepped up to the opening.

Something had occurred to her earlier, when her busy mind had been considering the problems with her various magicks while her hands were busy brushing out her hair. It wasn't a fix for her broken teleportation spell, but it might let her get some limited use from it.

_Because that spell isn't really broken, it's just a very bumpy ride, thanks to the mystical emanations from the Hellmouth. I can teleport... if I'm willing to accept having to throw up after a short little trip, and trying for a longer one would probably hurt me quite a lot._

The idea she'd had was simple; the energy coming through the dimensional fracture beneath Sunnydale wasn't a steady flood, it spilled out in erratic surges and waves. She'd noticed that during her classes at school, though it hadn't seemed important at the time. Now, though, she wondered if she could turn that to her advantage.

"Alrighty then, let's start with _this_," Harmony said aloud, making a series of graceful passes with her hands, opening a hole in the wards that surrounded her room. "And then this," Looking through the open window at the lawn below, she created a slender, connective thread of energy between where she was standing and where she wanted to be. "A little of this," she murmured, ever-so-carefully widening the thread into a tiny, magical wormhole, but deliberately _not_ allowing it to expand, engulf her and then pull her through as it would normally do. The tall girl smiled in satisfaction, not allowing her focus to waver for even an instant.

"There. Now all I have to do is wait a few seconds, and hopefully...."

The partial spell hung there, stretched between the two points in space, and the distortion waves from the Hellmouth constantly tugged and twisted at her magic as she concentrated on keeping it stable. A working such as this was, by its very nature, the most susceptible to that sort of interference, and she doubted she would ever be able to teleport more than a few thousand feet while in the vicinity of Sunnydale, even after she'd done the research and optimized the spell for this universe's strange quirks. In the meanwhile, though, it would be nice if she could at least....

"There," she said a minute later, watching as the chaotic energies subsided, at first only slightly, then a good bit more than that. It still wasn't exactly tranquil over there on the plane where magic operated, but any lessening of the turbulence should significantly reduce the discomfort she suffered during transit.

Harmony swept her hands through a final gesture, brought the energies to fruition through an exertion of will, and vanished in a flare of emerald light.

When she reappeared, fifteen feet down and twenty feet out in the yard, the light was equally dazzling, and she quickly stepped behind one of the small evergreens that decorated the front of the house. No one peered out through the drapes, and she pressed her palm against her tummy to quell the faint nausea that had resulted from the short journey.

_See? I'm completely brilliant!_, she crowed to herself as the discomfort faded. _Sure, that was barely any kind of distance at all, but it's definitely proof of concept. So long as I have time to do the spell like that, where I can wait for a lull in the nasty waves and riptides that the Hellmouth pours out, then I should be able to do at least short and medium hops without much trouble. Until I work the bugs out for real, this will work well enough._

Settling the strap of her purse on her shoulder, she looked back up at her window. One hand dancing nimbly through a series of gestures, and a pair of whispered Words were all it took to make the open window slide shut and lock from the inside. Her wards resealed themselves with a solid feeling like a bank vault door thudding shut.

Her confidence boosted a bit by those small successes, Harmony scanned the shadowy yard for threats, checked to make sure Bryan's car keys were still in her purse, and then headed off across the lawn.

* * * * *

Although his objective was simple, there were several things conspiring to make achieving that objective, and for that matter the whole evening in general, a royal pain in Spike's ass.

"Because firstly, it's just one girl I'm tryin' ta find, and there's a whole sodding town for her to hide _in!_" He paused on the sidewalk, surveyed the area in front of the movie theater, and lit a cigarette to help soothe his frayed temper. A few moments, and a couple of drags later, and he was at least able to keep his complaints down to a reasonable volume, so as not to startle the clueless citizens who were out and about.

"Because we wouldn't want that, would we?" he asked one boy of around sixteen, who happened to be passing by. "Best to save the frights and confusion for when I actually get around to eating you." The kid froze, staring at him uncertainly, and the vampire gave him a little tight-lipped smile, and walked on.

"I don't even know if this bird is anywhere _in_ town tonight," he told the air, his eyes busily scanning any group of people he saw even as he picked up his previous thought. "Who's to say she isn't tucked away, safe in her bed, instead of wandering around in circles like these idiots? It's not like I can check every single house in the 'burbs, looking for her."

That brought him to the second problem he was facing tonight; lack of manpower. He'd gotten a description of the unknown sorceress from Harlan, and although the details sounded a little implausible (Spike couldn't see what someone _that_ gorgeous would be doing wasting her time in a nowhere burg like Sunnydale), he still felt confident that he would know the girl if he saw her. However, the physical description wasn't the only thing Harlan had told him about.

"Her scent," Spike mused, taking a deep, unnecessary breath in through his nose, then following it up with another drag from his smoke. "If she really does smell as good as that git says, then I can't let any of my boys near her. I want her talking, not torn to shreds and spread out all over the ground, like catnip after the kitties have been at it."

Lesser vampires, almost without exception, simply didn't have the discipline or self-control to hold themselves back when presented with a fine meal. And, going by what he'd been told, this girl was very, very fine indeed.

A bustle of loud noise, and a warm, thick plume of scent suddenly hit him, and Spike paused, considering the front of the pub just ahead. A moment was all it took for the decision to be made, and he threw his cigarette aside as he stepped through the door.

A pint or two to fortify him, and he'd be ready to resume his hunt. He just wished he could shed the nagging certainty that he was wasting his time. Whoever this girl was, she had powerful magic. That sort of talent usually didn't turn up in the hands of an idiot, which was basically the only sort of person who would be roaming the streets of _this_ town at night without a very good reason. _Especially_ since Harlan's failed attack had shown her how dangerous these streets could be.

No, she would be too smart to risk it. Not that he was going to give up, not this early in the game, but still, there was very little chance he would find her tonight, surely.

She would definitely do anything rather than chance the shadowy streets of Sunnydale. Only a complete moron would even _consider_....

* * * * *

"Oooooh! You stupid, dumb, brainless... _car_!"

Harmony glared angrily down at the dashboard dials as Bryan's Camaro shuddered, jerked, and finally died yet again. She smacked her hands down on the steering wheel in frustration--lightly--and even so the already distorted wheel was bent slightly further out of shape.

"Only a _jock_ would have a car like this!" she fumed, then turned the ignition and started the stubborn machine for what felt like the hundredth time in the last five blocks. Carefully, very very carefully, she used her foot to operate the unfamiliar pedal for the 'clutch' thingie, applied the gas, pulled the stupid handle for the stupid gear shifter through what seemed to be the right pattern, then another one when that didn't work, then _another_ one (while doing her best to ignore the horrible grinding noises that resulted) and finally the car lurched reluctantly forward. Once it was rolling she put her hands on the bent steering wheel, and resolved to not mess with trying to shift gears again if she could help it, even _if_ that meant she wasn't going to get anywhere very fast.

_I wish I could just zap a pedestrian, and make him get in and drive this thing for me,_ she thought to herself with a wistful sigh. _Or maybe do one of those awesome spells I remember, but can't_ do _right now, and turn this junkheap into a unicorn that I could ride, instead._ The girl frowned, recalling one of the prerequisites for riding a unicorn, and then shook her head in regret. _Okay, so maybe not a unicorn. That's a shame, though, 'cause they're so pretty.... Although a Pegasus would be cool too, and they can fly!_

Her inattention cost her, though, because after she stopped for a traffic light, and then incautiously stepped on the gas when it changed, the car lurched and died again.

"Stupid, darn, poo-stinking... _thing_!" Harmony shoved at the steering wheel this time instead of hitting it, and something metallic went _crunchPOP_ where the steering column went down into the front of the car. She hastily pulled her hands away, hoping she hadn't broken something important. "I didn't even _do_ anything to make you die this time!" she whined at the machine. "I didn't touch _anything_ except the gas! How could that make you _stop_?!"

Sitting back in the seat, she ignored the way a car behind her honked twice, then pulled out and roared around and past her stalled vehicle. After a half-minute spent regaining control, she surprised herself by bursting out laughing.

"I'm still Harmony," she said, shaking her head sadly even as a last giggle escaped her. "I am _so_ Harmonyish that nobody could ever doubt my Harmonyness, so no worries there."

Eying the evil contraption that surrounded her, she flicked the center of the speedometer with one angry finger, fracturing the plexiglass with her long, delicate-seeming nail in the process.

"And _you_ are just as much of an inconsiderate, obnoxious meanie as your owner. First chance I get, I'm going to take you to a junkyard, crunch you up into a ball with my bare hands, and then toss you onto the ickiest, most disgusting pile of scrap I can find."

With that promise delivered, she started the engine again, worked at the clutch again, and created a deafening series of grinding sounds again. The car's shrieks of mechanical agony at this mistreatment didn't rouse any sympathy in Harmony; she simply kept at it until the machine lurched into motion.

"I'd better have a _great_ time tonight," she grumbled, fighting a little with a steering wheel that didn't seem to work quite as well as it had a few minutes earlier. "And please, don't let there be any trouble. I _so_ don't need any more of that."

* * * * *

Giles hadn't made much in the way of progress with cleaning up when Ms. Calendar pushed through the doors and entered the libary.

"Wow," she said, eyes wide as she surveyed the damage. "What in the world have you been doing in here, Rupert?"

He looked up, followed her gaze to the still smoldering aftermath, then continued mopping up the filthy water that puddled on the floor.

"Nothing serious," he assured her. "Just doing a little late-night research is all."

Jenny gave him a look that combined confusion and disbelief.

"Research?" Moving over to where the smaller reading table stood, she leaned over to peer at the circular hole that had been burned all the way through the wood. "What were you researching, exactly; napalm?"

"Ha ha," he said, then sighed and set the mop aside. "I assure you, I hadn't meant for things to get quite this destructive." He joined her at the table, and considered pouring yet another glass of water around the charred edges of the hole. Deciding to leave well enough alone, he instead picked up a blackened, waterlogged bit of paper and handed it to her. "My intention was to try and locate Ethan, using this." She took the remains of the note, pinching it between two fingertips to keep from getting too much char on her hands.

"He really left this for you to find?" she asked. "I mean, he _is_ a Sorcerer, right? So he must know you can trace him if you have something with his mystical fingerprints on it."

Giles nodded, started to pull his glasses off to clean them, then realized his hands were smeared with black. Turning away, he walked over to the main reading table and retrieved a cleaning rag.

"He most certainly _does_ know that, yes. There are, however, ways to mask one's aura, or to cleanse an object of any residual impressions, and I'd initially assumed he had done so with this before leaving it for me to find." He wiped his hands carefully, watching as Jenny tilted her head slightly and regarded him thoughtfully.

"'Initially'?" she repeated. He nodded, and indicated the bits of summoning paraphernalia that had been strewn about as if by a small explosion.

"Yes, well. I was curious about something, and performed a few magical inquiries." Since his magical abilities were learned, instead of being something he was born with, Giles had to work through spirit intermediaries, even when performing relatively minor workings. "They indicated that there was, in fact, a very clear residue on the note Ethan left."

Jenny held the paper up to the light, looking closely at the handwriting that was still faintly visible on the charred surface. Then she frowned and looked again.

"Um, it's a little hard to tell, given that this has been through a bonfire and then a dunking, but is this _lipstick_?" He smiled thinly at her incredulous expression.

"Yes, which is why I was curious. Ethan has always been prone to... experimentation--" Not that Giles was going to throw any stones at his old friend on that account; not when there were any number of shared adventures from their youth that made such things seem positively tame. "--But this seemed sufficiently strange to warrant investigation."

She put the note down on the burned table.

"So you tried a locating spell?" He nodded. "And managed to blow up the library in the process? Rupert, I thought you knew better than to be careless with your spellwork." Despite the way her dark eyes twinkled with gentle humor, his wounded pride prompted him to defend himself.

"I did _not_ 'blow up the library'," he informed her, waving one hand to illustrate their largely unscathed surroundings. "And I am never careless around magic. I took all the appropriate precautions... and a good thing, too." She quirked an eyebrow at him, then took note of how the damage to the tabletop was confined to a sharply-defined circular area.

"You think that maybe this Ethan person, or maybe his girlfriend or whoever, might have set a trap for you? Tried to blow you up as payback for ruining their Halloween fun?" she asked.

"I suppose that's possible," he allowed, though in fact he was far from certain. "What worries me is that I intentionally used a very subtle, very obscure spell when I tried to discover the location of whoever left this imprint. Ethan's arcane knowledge is eclectic, and deep in some areas, but this should have bypassed any warding he would have in place."

Jenny looked from him, to the now donut-shaped table, and then back to him, and her expression was worried.

"Not to mention the thing where you almost got incinerated, just from the bounceback from a tracer spell. I'm just a friendly little techno pagan, not a Witch or a Sorcerer, but I've never heard of anything like _that_ before."

"Nor have I." He looked towards the Libary's high windows, and the darkness that pressed close against them. "This second person, if there _is_ a second person... they've erected some extremely powerful and sophisticated barriers in order to prevent anyone from magically identifying their whereabouts. Of course any associate of Ethan's is likely to be dangerous in the extreme. This woman, however, may be even worse; a threat of the darkest, most sinister, most _unfathomable_ sort."

* * * * *

"Girls, they wanna have fun-unnnn," Harmony sang as she drove, pleased that at least the radio in the stupid car worked as it should.

"Oh, girls, just wanna have funnnnn!" Since the one gear she could find only moved the Camaro along at about twenty miles an hour, she could spare a little attention from the street in front of her. And so, inevitably, she found herself adjusting the rear-view mirror as she sang, to give her a view of her face as she launched into the next verse.

"Some boys take a beautiful girl--" she pursed her lips in a little air-kiss towards her reflection, grinned at her own pretentiousness, and continued with hardly a missed beat.

"--and hide her away from the rest of the world. I wanna be the one to walk in the sun, oh girls, just wanna have fu-unnnn--"

* * * * *

Spike was feeling quite happy with himself at the moment, and it had nothing at all to do with the eleven beers he'd put away so far.

Well, _almost_ nothing at all to do with them.

"No, not in that one, either," he declared, as he exited the bar and headed off in search of the next. Despite the alcohol he'd consumed he wasn't _quite_ drunk. A little looser, maybe, a little more relaxed, but definitely not drunk.

Although he was well on his way, knew it, and didn't much care.

"Not affecting the plan, mind you," he continued, rambling slightly as he walked, hands tucked inside the pockets of his leather duster. "The plan is balls-on, one hundred percent...." He lost his train of thought, frowned, then shrugged. It didn't matter, he could recap it, and refresh his memory.

"The obvious place to find this bird--_if_ she's anywhere to be found in the first place," he began, looking down and watching his feet move along, step by step, "is in a social gathering. Because _if_ she's out and about tonight, it bein' a Friday night and all, then that's where a girl is going to go." He nodded to himself, pleased that the logic still seemed to track, even now that he was slightly less than sober. "The key points to remember here, are 'teenage girl', which that git Harlan sounded pretty sure about, and 'slobberingly tasty-looking, drop-dead-sexy, kill-her-now-and-drink-her-quick _gorgeous_ girl', which he was even more sure about. Both of which will inevitably lead her to a place where she can meet up with other people. Because a girl like that does _not_ spend her Friday nights at home all alone. Unless she's smart and does exactly that," he admitted with a shrug. "An if she does that then the whole night is a balls-up waste of time anyway, so let's say she won't."

So Spike had been checking the bars, spending a few minutes in each one to search for the new player in town, and, incidentally, having himself a brew or two while he was there. He knew that it wouldn't be much longer before he ran out of places to look; when you narrowed down the possible locations like that Sunnydale suddenly became a much smaller town. Of course there was one fairly obvious place to look that he'd purposely avoided thus far....

"Don' need to look there," he muttered, with only a glance to the northeast, where a certain teen's club was located. "Girl like this, she's too good for that place. Too... classy." That was another word Harlan had used in describing the girl who had driven him away after he'd tried to drain her; 'classy'. He'd said she even _smelled_ like someone above everyday concerns. He'd said her scent was what he imagined royalty would smell like.

"Personally, I don't think Harlan would know a royal from his own asshole, if he ever did catch scent of one," Spike said, as he stopped and pulled air into his dead lungs, considering the myriad scents that came to him as he did so. He exhaled, disappointed at the all-too-ordinary jumble he'd received. Again, he considered the Bronze, and again he decided against it. There was a strong likelihood that the Slayer would be there, and, well, it wasn't that he was afraid of her, strictly speaking....

"There's just no percentage in it. Not right now. Not till Dru's fixed up."

That was entirely true, and he felt better for having said it out loud. Now, though, it left him wondering where else to look. He was effectively out of normal bars, and even if his dim-witted minion had been wrong about this girl's pedigree, Spike still couldn't see any self-respecting spellcaster stooping low enough to visit Willie's Place. That was _completely_ at the wrong end of the spectrum from what he envisioned as her choice of nocturnal diversions. And as for the other end of that spectrum, Sunnydale had only one real option so far as....

"Ah." It struck him, even as he realized that his feet, those brilliant, boot-clad feet of his, were a step ahead (so to speak), and had already brought him, all unawares, to the most promising place in which to seek his quarry.

The Gryphon Hill Tavern didn't really sit on a hill, it was more of a slight rise that lay just short of the actual hills on Sunnydale's southern edge. The name was misleading too, in that it wasn't just a tavern. The several large buildings that clustered there in one interconnected tumble of random-seeming architecture actually held three related establishments. There was a Champions, a sports-bar, with lots of televisions tuned to various sporting events, some pool tables for those inclined to provide their own sport, and even a few arcade games for the die-hard gamers who didn't get enough of the stuff from their Playstations at home. Next door, and accessible through wide hallways inside, was an upper-end restaurant called Legends, with steaks, seafood, and those fried onion things that Spike found so amazing. Finally, the third section of the establishment held what he thought would be his best bet: Revels, which was a dance club. Sure, the clientele tended more towards twenty-something yuppie spawn-and the occasional _actual_ yuppie-than teenage girls, but it was also the only place in town that offered a serious opportunity for bumping and grinding with the opposite sex--other than the off-limits Bronze, of course.

"Perfect," he said to himself, nodding, and then headed off across the parking lot. First he'd check the club, and then he would go hang out in the sports bar, have another beer or three, watch some soccer on the telly, and maybe even win a few games of pool. The first poor sod who was inconsiderate enough to beat him would wind up as dinner, once Spike dragged him out back.

Even if the girl never showed, he would still have a thoroughly pleasant night to show for his trouble.

* * * * *

It had taken her forever, and she doubted Bryan would have appreciated the abuse, both verbal and physical, that she'd inflicted on his car, but she had finally arrived at her destination.

_Not_ the Bronze, though she'd actually driven most of the way there before changing her mind. Sure, not everyone who showed up there went to Sunnydale High.... Even so, she'd decided at the last minute not to risk someone recognizing the mysterious new superbabe in town as Harmony Kendall. With her favorite party spot therefore out of the running, she'd been forced to consider the alternatives... and had instantly realized that there was a much _better_ option available to her.

The Gryphon Hill Tavern had everything she was looking for: dancing, great food, and most of all....

"Boys," she breathed reverently, as she gazed at the building through the windshield. Then--"Okay, and I'll at least entertain the idea of dancing with the girls too, if I happen to see any amazingly cute ones, but mostly it's a male-type person I'm hoping to find tonight. A tall, sexy, awesomely _nice_ man; that's what I'm in the mood for. The anti-Bryan, basically." She frowned at the memory of what her former boyfriend had done to her, then smiled with wicked glee when she thought of what was in store for the football player.

"He's going to be very, very sorry that he treated me like that," she murmured, then dismissed the matter in favor of more immediate concerns. Locating an open spot not far from the club entrance, she pulled the hateful vehicle into place, put it in park, and stepped out.

Luckily, there was no one in the darkened lot just then to watch her as she struggled with that last part.

The combination of her new body and the extremely low sports car made climbing out of the driver's seat a real challenge, especially given her outfit. Her goddess-boots, with their super-high heels would have been handicap enough all on their own, but her skirt pretty much guaranteed that any attempt at managing the maneuver with grace and modesty was doomed to failure. Not only was it tighter than mere human physics could adequately quantify, it was short.

Really, really, _really_ short. So much so that if anyone _had_ been there to see, they would have gotten an excellent view of her underthings as she twisted her hips sideways in the seat, putting her feet on the ground and working to get her newly enlarged, magnificently formed breasts clear of the semi-mangled steering wheel. There _had_ been enough room for everything earlier, despite how she'd grown; it was only after she had bent the wheel (and the steering column) with repeated, frustrated blows from her fists that it had ended up nearly pinning her back against the seat.

"Quite a bit of trouble, these," she grumbled, with a half-serious glare down at her chest, and then sighed with relief as she worked her way free, pulling herself to her feet a bit more gracefully. With an embarrassed look around, she put both hands on the hem of her skirt and pulled down--with a carefully-calculated wriggle of her hips thrown in to help the material slide back down where it belonged. Once that was accomplished, she twisted from side to side, examining what she could see of her backside carefully to make sure everything was covered. It was--barely--and she nodded in relief.

"I _so_ need to go shopping, and find some things that actually fit," she told herself for the eighth time that day. As it was, she had been forced to wear the corset from her Amora costume, since she didn't really have any dressy tops that would fit her at all. The corset worked well enough as slightly risqué club wear, and it had the added advantage of providing snugly-fitting support for her larger, fuller breasts. The skirt was really too tight and too short to wear anywhere _except_ a club, and even then it was only her heart-stopping beauty that let her get away with it. She'd added the skin-tight silk sleeves from her costume as well, though with the gold ribbons removed. After that, all she'd needed was to change the color of the skirt from its original plum to something that would match the green of everything else.

That's when she'd once more encountered the limits of her magic. She couldn't change the fabric's color--literally, she couldn't do it. Spells which changed the nature of an object, even something trivial like going from a reddish color to a greenish one, stubbornly refused to work. The best she'd been able to manage was to use a minor illusion to make it _seem_ like it was green... which in this case was just as good as the real thing anyway.

Except for the way it rankled her to be this feeble. And it wasn't that the power wasn't there; she had all _kinds_ of power... she just hadn't yet worked out how to adapt her Asgardian magicks to this universe. Until she did so, illusions and mind-magic would have to suffice.

Harmony shook off the oncoming dark mood with difficulty, and tried to focus on happier thoughts.

_This--all of this-- is going to be_ fun. _My life isn't going to be about doom and gloom, or fighting monsters every other day, either... not unless they try to hurt me first._ A nervous look around the darkened parking lot reassured her that it was still monster-free, and she gave a long, faintly-tremulous exhalation. _Nope, I'm definitely not the hero-girl type. All I want is to have a good time, have people like me.... Okay, okay--what I really want is for people to fall hopelessly in_ love _with me, and protect me, and spoil me absolutely rotten... is that too much to ask?_ She shook her head, and twirled an errant lock of hair around and around one finger. _Nope, absolutely not. And I'll do nice things, when I can, and be generous, when I feel like it. That whole vampire thing, for example; warning everyone at school about that is the first thing on the to-do list for Monday... provided I can figure out how to do it without everyone thinking I'm completely insane._

Across the parking lot, she saw the doors to the club open briefly, and a group of four people enter. Gathering her resolve, she gave herself a brief, reassuring smile, and then started walking.

"I'll think of something, I'm sure." Fingers trailing across her flat stomach, then smoothing her tight dress over the curve of her hips, she felt her smile turn genuine. "After all, this isn't just some _average_ sexy, magical, perfect-in-every-way girl we're talking about here: it's _me_!"

* * * * *

It only took a few seconds for Spike to decide he hated the dance club. True, it was full of beautiful people, it's just that they were, well, Southern Californian beautiful people. He'd been here long enough now to know that this particular subspecies tended to taste unpleasantly of botox, fake tan, silicone, and Polo aftershave. The club was loud, too, and while ordinarily that wouldn't have phased him, this was the wrong kind of loud. The Clash, or the Sex Pistols, now; _that_ was noise. The canned music being pumped through these speakers, on the other hand, was painfully lame. They were playing _Britney Spears_ for christ's sake!

_'Sometimes I run... Sometimes I hide.  
Sometimes I'm scaaared of you....'_

With an ill-concealed shudder, the vampire took a quick look around. While there were plenty of blonde women present, most of them quite attractive, none of them fit the description of the young sorceress. None of them smelled like anything but garden-variety human, either, so he quickly retreated.

_'All I wanna do is to hold you tiiiight,  
Treat you right,  
Be with you daaaaay and night....'_

It was with real relief that he made it through the connecting hallway that led the restaurant. The background music there wasn't much better--it was barely a step up from Muzak, but at least it was muted. The tangy scent of those delicious deep-fried onions was tempting, and it was only with great effort that he managed to concentrate on the human scents in the room.

"Nothing," he said finally, after sorting out the distracting food smells. Even though he drank blood to live, his dead stomach could still appreciate the occasional bit of solid food with no ill-effects, so long as he didn't overdo it. Resolving to come back later and filch a platter of something tasty, he went on to the third and final section of the Tavern.

The sports bar area was, unsurprisingly, a little louder than the other areas, though still not quite what he would call crowded. There was a comfortable press of people there, though, and he bumped into a few on the way to the bar. In any of the rougher places that he frequented, that would have been sufficient to begin a very enjoyable brawl. Here, unfortunately, all it earned him was a murmured apology, or at most a dark look. Heaving a sigh, Spike ordered his beer, wandered over towards the pool tables, and started up a game.

* * * * *

Just getting into a club like this was beyond anything the old Harmony had ever been able to manage. No matter how flirty she tried to be, her minor-league cuteness was never enough to make the guy working the door ignore the fact that she was way short of being twenty-one. It was beyond humiliating, watching every other girl on the cheerleading squad breeze past a doorman, only to have him turn her away. For _this_ particular door, however, even Cordelia-strength hotness had proven to be insufficient. Earlier in the year, a local parenting group had made underage drinking into their very own crusade, and had proceeded to really made things uncomfortable for area businesses who were lax in their carding policies. As a result, it was nearly impossible to get into the place without an incredibly good fake I.D. ... which Harmony didn't have.

_I do have magic, though,_ the girl thought as she approached the broad pool of light in front of the entrance. _One quick zap, a little hypnotic suggestion, and he'll be convinced that my video-rental card is a perfectly legitimate driver's license--it'll be easy!_

Harmony raised one hand, and had already begun the first arcane gesture, when something made her stop.

_Wait a second...._ She gazed at the man standing beside the entrance, and came to an abrupt decision. _No, no spells for this. Any mortal magician could use a spell--_ She paused, considered that particular subsection of her mental encyclopedia, and rephrased her thought _--Okay, so mind-control is actually fairly difficult. That still means that some mortals_ could _use a spell to get past this guy. I want to try something else. I've been walking around all day in 'HarmonyPlus' mode; basically just a prettier version of the old me. Now, though, there's nothing hidden, nothing held back. I want to see if this face and this body are really as irresistible as Amora thought they were._

Using nothing more than pure looks and attitude (and whatever Goddess-Powered seduction vibes she'd inherited from Amora), she should easily be able to charm her way inside the club. The results, one way or the other, would give her an objective measurement of where on the hotness scale her new form registered--either just fairly, sorta/kinda hot, or full-on supernova-intensity babeness.

_Aaaaand, just to make it a little more challenging... how about if I limit myself to saying just one word to the guy?_ Harmony's lips twitched a little as she once again realized just how high an opinion she had of herself, no matter how hard she worked at holding on to a little humbleness.

_Guess it's time to see if anyone else thinks I'm as totally, infinitely awesome as I do._

She walked towards the man at the door, hips moving in a carefully-calculated sway.

* * * * *

Even though people called him 'Brick', Eddie Carrigan's nickname referred to his bodybuilder's physique, not what he used for brains. Having lots of muscles didn't automatically make him an idiot, and he liked his job. Not that he wasn't a fan of pretty ladies; quite the opposite. It was just that he was an even bigger fan of the regular paycheck he received for his work as a bouncer and doorman. Also factored into the equation was the fact that his fiancé, Krista, currently serving as a helicopter pilot in the Marines, would without doubt kick his ass if she so much as _suspected_ he'd fooled around with any of the girls at the club.

Bearing both of those things in mind, when he first saw the tall girl step out of the shadows, he didn't take any special notice of her looks. No one who was underage was allowed inside, and since she wasn't Krista then she was off-limits anyway, so nothing this chick said or did would influence him; it was as simple as that. He watched idly as she raised her hand as if to draw something in the air, paused, seemed to think it over, and turned the gesture into a combing motion that ran caressing fingers through her hair instead.

Her incredibly long, amazingly gorgeous hair. Eddie stared, intrigued despite himself by the way that mane threw off gleams and shimmers of deep gold, even though the building's lights barely touched her, out there in the semi-darkness. When she started forward, with that sexy little figure-eight motion of her hips as she walked, he could only grin wryly and shake his head in mock weariness.

_Oooh boy, this one really means to let me have it. Too bad for her it isn't gonna work_. He'd long since lost count of the number of underage girls who'd tried to sweet-talk their way past him... only to meet with quick and utter failure. Sure, in some places he'd worked it was almost a game, and the cutest ones got passed inside with only a token effort at checking to make sure their I.D. was legit. Here at Gryphon Hill, however, management most emphatically did _not_ tolerate that kind of shit. It could lead to fines, it could lead to arrests, and (as had been made very, _very_ clear by his boss), it would inevitably lead to the firing of a certain Eddie 'Brick' Carrigan. That, combined with his lovely (and quick-tempered) fiancé's utter lack of humor regarding such things, gave him what he felt was an unshakable resolve. He was, without doubt, one hundred percent immune to anything the ladies of Sunnydale might try.

Seriously, no matter how pretty this girl was, no matter how much she flirted with him, there was absolutely no way she was going to get inside without showing... some... valid....

"... I.D.?" Eddie managed, his voice a little strangled. As the girl came fully into the light, his brain momentarily _did_ feel as thick as a brick. She wasn't just 'pretty', this girl was completely, almost insanely gorgeous. Without even a trace of guilt he instantly decided that this was the most beautiful woman he'd seen in his life--Krista included. And that didn't even take into account the way she _moved_. The three steps up from the parking lot to the area in front of the doors looked to be more than she could manage, given the height of those heels and the tightness of that outfit, but she floated up them with a lithe grace that kicked his heart rate up two full notches.

"Your I.D.," he said again, now that she was actually close enough for conversation. Eddie was pleased to note that his voice sounded almost normal this time around, though it took an intense exercise of will to hold his gaze on her face. From what he'd seen as she approached, and from what his peripheral vision was telling him now, she had a body that would instantly send the hottest Playboy centerfold into a jealous rage.

That was so distracting that he almost didn't notice that all the girl gave him in reply to his request was a slight side to side movement of her head. Eddie blinked, frowned, got his thoughts back on track, and gave the blonde a stern look.

"You don't _have_ any I.D.?" Another shake of her head, this time accompanied by a little pout of her (perfect) ruby-red lips, and an innocent widening of her (enormous) emerald eyes. His frown turned into a scowl. _I knew it,_ he told himself with satisfaction. _I knew she would try and play me, and here it is. Well, it isn't gonna happen, no way, no how._

"I'm sorry, ma'am," he began, the oft-repeated spiel coming automatically. "No one will be admitted to the club without proper identification. Gryphon Hill apologizes for any inconvenience this may cause, but state law insists that we--"

"Please," she said, in a voice like warm honey. Just that single word, spoken softly as she reached out and laid gentle fingers on his forearm. He kept his scowl in place with difficulty, and did his best to ignore the way every nerve in his body seemed to register that feather-light touch on his arm.

"I'm sorry," he repeated... and the scent of her perfume grabbed hold of the bits and pieces of his central nervous system that hadn't already been put on high alert by the girl's proximity.

'Girl' being the operative word here; at this range he had an excellent, well-lit view of her (absolutely exquisite) face, and if she was more than eighteen then he was a ninety-pound weakling.

_Christ, if I were to let her inside and Ron saw her, he'd fire my ass so fast--! And then I'd have the fun of having to explain to Kris exactly why I got canned._ Just imagining that scene was enough to make the big man shudder. _She'd kill me; really, actually KILL me... that Aikido stuff she learned in the corps is no joke._

His resolve strengthened by those thoughts, Eddie carefully removed her hand from his arm, smiled weakly to show it wasn't anything personal, and turned her around to face the parking lot.

"Sorry, babe, really, there's just no way I'm gonna let--"

She kissed him.

It shouldn't have happened; he had hold of her arm, and his other hand was on her opposite shoulder. Even though she was very tall, he still outweighed her nearly twice over, and every bit of that extra mass was solid muscle. So she shouldn't have been able to turn in his grasp and lean in against the force he exerted to keep her at arm's length... but she did. Before he could do anything else, her lips found his, and then....

And then....

And then his mind locked up completely, and everything around him seemed suddenly distant and unimportant--everything except the taste of her. Sweetness, like ripe berries drenched in sugar, and a dizzying rush like the time when, on a bet, he'd chugged an entire bottle of champagne.

After an eternity (that might have lasted a few seconds) she pulled away. To his surprise, Eddie found that he'd somehow, without meaning to, ended up holding her with one hand on her slender waist and the other at the back of her head, buried in the incredible silken-softness of that golden hair. She smiled, ever-so-faintly, and regarded him through long, dark lashes, those emerald eyes sparkling.

"Please?" she whispered.

His mouth, still gaping in the aftermath of that kiss, made soundless movements for several seconds before he could speak.

"B-Buhwuh?" He shook his head like a punch-drunk boxer, took a deep breath (a mistake; again the subtle scent of her perfume washed over him like a wave), and hastily took his hands off her. A quick step back did him no good at all; she stepped forward at the same instant with the smooth grace of a dancer to stay pressed right up against him.

"Ah, um--" He cleared his throat with extreme difficulty; the pulse in his throat was pounding so hard it felt like his heart was jammed in his larynx. "Listen, lady. If you're looking for a good time tonight, go try the Bronze. They let all ages in, there, and--"

The blonde girl wasn't listening. Instead, she was walking--or rather, 'stalking'-- a slow, slow circle around him. Her fingertips, with those long, perfectly-manicured nails, trailed lightly across his upper chest, just below his collarbone, then over the densely-muscled ridge of his shoulder. As she stepped around him, the soft fullness of her breast not-so-accidentally brushed his arm. The heat of her body, radiating effortlessly through the thin leather of her outfit, knocked the wind out of him as effectively as a sucker punch to the kidney.

"The, uh, Bronze is good," he said, struggling to keep his voice level as she circled, that trailing touch on his shoulder somehow holding him motionless as a statue. "T-they have, ah, live music there--?"

The pounding in this throat increased again, strangling his voice to nothing, as a gentle gust of wind came out of the California night. It caught at her long, long hair, and lightly tugged it across the front of his body as she stepped behind him. That left his arms and midsection partially cocooned in the softest, finest strands imaginable, and as she moved up around to his right side, that hair was tugged along and around him in a warm, sleek, slightly clinging caress that was unspeakably erotic. The girl came into view around his other side, and her trailing fingers moved up to touch the side of his jaw. When she applied the tiniest amount of pressure there he obediently turned his head to look directly at her.

Stunning. The face, the hair, the way her slim waist contrasted with the graceful swell of her hips and the buoyant fullness of her incredible breasts... every inch of her was absolutely stunning. She smiled again at his dumbstruck expression, leaned in very slowly, and took his lips once more.

Time stopped again, while she kissed him.

Nothing else mattered, while she kissed him.

When she chose to end it, Eddie felt a disappointment that was almost physical pain. When she took a step back, and held him powerless with those huge, gorgeous eyes, he could only stare.

And when she whispered '_please_,' once more, so softly that the word was nearly lost in the faint sounds that carried from inside the club, all he could do was nod.

"...Okay."

The flash of her smile held enough megawattage to make his poor, abused heart stumble once more, and he watched, forlorn, as she swept past him.

_It's not really such a big deal_, he told himself, with the small part of him that wasn't lost in her beauty. _It's just a girl going into a club, right? I'll bet she's just here to dance and hang out; so long as she doesn't drink anything, nobody will mind that I let her inside... right?_  
The girl in question paused at entrance and glanced back, one perfect brow fractionally raised as she made a tiny gesture at the door.

"Please?"

Mentally kicking himself for his thoughtlessness, Eddie leapt forward, grabbed the door handle, and pulled it open for her. Holding it as she swayed inside, he was rewarded with one final caress of his cheek. Then she was gone, and he was left standing alone in front of the entrance.

_Ohhhhh crap. If they fire me I don't know_ what _I'm gonna tell Krista, but it'd better be good._

* * * * *

A feeling of unabashed glee washed over Harmony as the doors swung shut behind her, and for a moment her sexy walk turned into a little impromptu dance of victory.

_I'm sexy!_

I'm cute!

I'm popular to boot!

The smuggest of the many smug cheerleader chants she knew ran through her head as she twirled and laughed. She was in, she'd gotten past the obstacle that had successfully repelled every other girl on the cheerleading squad, and it had been a piece of cake.

_Go me! Go me! That was_ easy!

She spun around, grinned at the now closed entrance doors, and touched two fingers to her brow in a little salute.

_And thank you, kind sir. I'll try not to get you in too much trouble._

Almost without trying, she'd gotten an impression of the man's emotions while kissing him, and to her surprise he'd actually seemed like an okay guy.

_He was pretty worried about what would happen if he let me past,_ she thought, turning to consider the short, wide hallway that led to the interior of the club. _And he's taken, too; I could taste the guilt there even when I was drowning him in 'kiss me/want me/love me' vibes._ A little shrug showed her lack of concern for that, even as she smoothed her hair back and began walking towards the light and music. _His girl had better be grateful I'm letting her keep him; darned generous of me, actually._  
Feeling quite virtuous, she walked through the inner doorway.

* * * * *

They had watched the Sacrifice approach the place-that-was-foretold with quiet satisfaction. She entered, as she must, all unawares that she would never leave--that her fate had been decided a thousand years earlier. Here, tonight, she would die... and her destruction would provide to the means to enslave a dozen worlds.

They watched, and as always, their mistress saw through their eyes. And although they felt her satisfaction, and her eagerness, there was also a nagging bit of uncertainty. The other, the vampire that had arrived just moments ahead of the Sacrifice... that was something not mentioned in the prophecies. Even though she would not arrive for some time, the mistress had no difficulty in making her wishes known to her minions. Moving as one, sixteen figures stood, and moved toward the sprawling structure. Two each would take up posts outside each exit, to ensure the Sacrifice did not escape. Two more would go inside, to watch the Vampire.

He would not be allowed to interfere. Tonight, the mistress would at long last take her final form.

* * * * *


	9. So, this Goddess walks into a bar

_Wow, I still can't get over how easy it was to charm that bouncer. He really-really didn't want to let me past, and he still folded a lot quicker, and more completely than James did when I tried the same thing on him after school._ A piece of memory floated up from the thousands of years of knowledge that were still being assimilated, and Harmony nodded in sudden understanding. _Oh, okay. There's a link between how I look and how easy it is to influence people. With James it was only HarmonyPlus trying to charm him, and doorguy back there had to deal with the real me. The hotter I am, the more attraction they feel, the more their natural defenses against being controlled relax, and the deeper I can sink my hooks into them. That's the key to all of Amora's influence and control magic, right there; and one more reason why she's so obsessed with her looks--besides the raging narcissism, I mean._

The girl grinned, still amused at the mountain-sized ego the goddess had possessed. Also noteworthy was the way that ego was steadily working at overcoming and replacing Harmony's own insecurities.

_How's that song go? The one that Cordy likes so much?_

'Learning to love yourself,  
is the greatest gift of all'

"No worries there; I'm making some _serious_ progress with the self-love," she whispered to herself, with a soft little laugh. "Definitely feeling _much_ more comfortable with myself than I was yesterday!" With one hand she tugged her micro mini-skirt back down, and with the other she flipped her hair back, absolutely in love with the sensation of the heavy, silken softness swaying back and forth across the bare skin of her thighs and upper back.

Just inside, a young woman behind a counter was taking money from the couples who had gone in ahead of her, and Harmony took a second to compose herself again. There was a large sign posted on the wall, proclaiming most emphatically that no one under twenty-one years old was to be admitted. The counter-girl was in her mid twenties, and moderately-pretty in a generic, sandy-haired sort of way.

"Hi," the girl said, looking up with a smile as the couples moved on inside. "The cover is five dollars."

Harmony nodded, smiled back, and opened her purse. She didn't mind paying to get in this one time, since she fully expected to have multiple boyfriends (and girlfriends) eager to take care of the money thing for her in the very near future. When she handed over the cash, the neophyte goddess noticed that the girl behind the counter was giving her an odd look, and she nodded to herself as she read the conflicting expression and body language.

_She's_ almost _sure I'm too young to be in here, but she's also aware that it's the job of the guy out front to have carded me. On the other hand, she can see how attractive I am, so that explains how I got past him, only she doesn't want to make a scene, especially with someone who_ might _be totally legit._

"I'm sorry," the girl apologized, taking Harmony's money but not making any move to put it in the register. "I just can't help but notice that you look really--"

"Stylish?" Harmony supplied smoothly, with an embarrassed smile, looking down at her outfit and smoothing an imaginary wrinkle from her ultra-tight skirt. "That's sweet of you to say. I just got back from a trip to Europe, and this 'trashy-chic' thing is all the rage over there right now. Believe me, as soon as I get a chance, I'm going to update my wardrobe from top to bottom!" She leaned forward slightly, and surveyed what the counter girl was wearing. "Oooh, now _that_ is way cute! I love the way the silver and the white look together; it makes you look like a goddess!" She couldn't keep the wicked grin off her lips at that, but the girl laughed in delight even as she shook her head.

"Thanks! And you look _sooo_ hot in that corset thing," she looked Harmony up and down, and gave a wistful sigh. "I wish I had the body to pull off something like that. And that _hair_!" The goddess-girl gave a regal nod to acknowledge the entirely deserved compliments, and watched as the other belatedly dropped the money into the cash drawer, apparently forgetting all about her momentary misgivings as to Harmony's age.

_You've gotta love the mystical, magical charisma; it's good for more than just blindsiding the boys,_ she mused happily.

"Here you go," the counter girl said, holding out a small stamp. "If you're going to go over to the restaurant or Champions, you'll need this to get back into the club." Harmony wasn't ecstatic about an ink blob marring her perfect skin, but she submitted to the process with as much grace as possible.

"Thank you," she told the girl with a smile.

_This is actually a good thing, the not having to use actual spells on people for the minor stuff. This way, I can still get what I want, so long as it isn't completely unreasonable... without having to rewrite their brains in any kind of permanent way._

Not that she was especially concerned about the welfare of mere mortals... no, wait; actually she _did_ care, at least a little. Sure, those parts of her that were Amora didn't see humans as anything more than convenient playthings, and Harmony herself didn't exactly have a history of being the nicest person on the planet. Even so, there was no reason to leave a swath of mentally-damaged people behind her if she didn't _need_ to... right? A little compassion wouldn't cost her anything, and it was just plain mean to bludgeon random innocents with mind-altering spells when there were other options.

The music blasting from just ahead of her caught her attention, and she pushed that bit of introspection away for later consideration.

_"Baby all I need is time...."_

"Oooh; Britney!" she exclaimed, though the song ended almost before she recognized it. Some generic, synthesizer-heavy piece started blaring from the sound system, accompanied by a strobing, multicolored lightshow. Pouting in disappointment, she looked around and wondered what to do now.

Harmony and her parents had actually eaten in Legends, the adjoining restaurant, a few times before. Those had been fairly joyless 'celebration' dinners, after her father had won a particularly lucrative contract, or her mother had retained her place as the head of the neighborhood homeowner's association for yet another year. Because of that she had a fairly good idea of how the place was arranged, and yet she'd never made it inside the club area itself.

Until now.

There was a large dance floor, of course, with a fantastic array of lights up above it, positioned along metal frames. Some of them were on movable mounts, and could rotate or shift through different colors by remote control. There was a bar on the far side of the large space, and areas with tables and booths all around the edges. Off to one side was the tunnel-like hallway that led off to the rest of the jumbled structure; the sports bar place and the restaurant both. There were bathrooms through there too, although she could see the doorway for another set past the far end of the bar. Overall she found it incredibly nifty... and positively pedestrian. With a delicate frown creasing her perfect features, Harmony again found herself dealing with that odd double-perspective.

_Okay, for me, Harmony, this is the most awesome place I've ever seen. Just look at the way the dance floor lights up from underneath!_

And yet, at the same time, viewed through Amora's jaded eyes, the entire scene was tawdry... almost laughable. The club was too small, too plain, too... nineteen-eighties. _She_ had traveled the entire world, had danced in clubs in New York, and Paris, and Berlin, that made this look like a child's clubhouse. Did the people dancing in front of her right now not realize how pathetic their efforts were?

With an increasingly familiar and automatic mental effort, Harmony shoved those feelings to the back of her mind.

_Quiet, you. Anything you did was in some alternate reality anyway, not on_ this _Earth. So enough with the attitude._

Of course the downside of facing the room with just her own perception of things was that it all looked intimidating, instead of infantile.

There were probably a couple hundred people in the room, some dancing, most not, and she didn't know _any_ of them. Everyone here was also older than her, more successful than her, and more experienced than her. Super-sexual, super-beautiful Enchantress or not, that was still a little daunting.

_So.... Should I just walk up to somebody, grab him, and lay out his new responsibilities as my boytoy? Or go out on the dance floor and show them what I've got... even though I'm not completely sure_ what _I've got, dance-wise? I sure never impressed anybody with my moves before...._

Standing there in the little entrance space, unnoticed by absolutely everybody, she heaved a little sigh.

And then something very strange happened....

There was a stirring within her, and a feeling like she was taking a deep breath... and it didn't stop. Something, invisible and intangible, expanded outwards from her in all directions. A faint whisper of energy, a breath of Goddess magic that moved through the club like a fluttering cloud of invisible, intangible butterflies, brushing along the skin of every man and woman there.

They sensed it, too, even if they didn't know what it was. Everyone, every single person, stopped in mid-dance or mid-move or mid-word, turned, and looked straight at her.

Feeling very much like a deer who suddenly found itself staring into the lights of an oncoming truck, Harmony looked back, eyes wide.

_Um... what did I just do?_ She saw them considering her, and quite a few of them turned and whispered to their friends, the words buried beneath the half-deafening sound of the music.

_Okay, at least they're not all frozen, or brain-zapped or whatever; everybody happened to turn around and notice the new girl at once, is all. With a little help from me, I guess._

Deciding that anything would be better than standing in the door like an idiot, Harmony drew on the reserves of courage that were the welcome byproduct of all that ego, and started across the room with her sexiest, most feline walk.

A quartet of college-aged guys, standing near the entrance with beer bottles in hand, tracked her progress with identical gobsmacked stares. That intense, silent, quadruple regard was a little disconcerting--until they managed to speak.

"Oh my fucking god...." All four of them said in awestruck unison, unable to look away, or even to blink, as she swayed past. Harmony was able to suppress her elated grin, if only just barely.

_Hee! Just... Hee!_

Working hard at staying in character as the mysterious and ultrahot new girl, she pretended not to have heard them--not difficult, given how loud the music was in this place.

Obviously sitting alone at a table was the wrong thing to do; she would feel much too much like Harmony-the-loser, doing that. So she stalked her way towards the bar, noting as she moved that people were going back to what they'd been doing, dancing or conversations or whatever, though she could feel a lot of eyes tracking her all the way across the room.

_They're staring because I'm gorgeous,_ she had to reassure herself, over and over during that brief walk. _Not because I look stupid, or fat, or ugly. I'm beautiful, and the staring is a good thing. In fact, it's a_ great _thing. _

When she reached the bar she found an empty stool that gave her a good view of the rest of the club (and, not so coincidentally gave the club a good view of _her_). Using every bit of skill Amora had, Harmony perched herself gracefully atop it--and without flashing anyone, either. A casual, almost languid movement left her legs crossed at the knee and one arm propped on the glossy surface of the bar. The bar stool was comfy enough, and just exactly high enough so that the trailing ends of her hair swung back and forth ten inches from the floor.

The bartender nodded in her direction to let her know he'd seen her, and went back to finishing up someone else's order. Harmony used the wait to think about what had just happened.

_It wasn't a spell that made them all notice me like that when I was coming in; because I sure didn't cast anything. It was more of that para-magical stuff, like the kiss, and the charisma, and the reading people's emotions thing. Not anything as simple as magic, it's Goddess power._ My _power._

It was still there, too, flickering around the room, just at the edges of her perception. The effect was faint; what had served to subtly affect how a classroom of students saw her, earlier that day, and to make the big man at the front entrance submit to her will just now, was all but buried in the much louder, higher-energy environment here. It had gotten her everyone's attention upon her entrance, true, she just didn't think she should count on being able to do much of anything else to the room at large. One on one would be a different matter, obviously.

Something in her Amora memories was nagging at her, seeming almost indignant at the turn her thoughts had taken there. She tried to track down the source, to find what it was that she was so offensively wrong about, but was interrupted.

"You're kidding, right?"

Harmony looked up, surprised, and saw the bartender regarding her skeptically.

"Excuse me?" She had to pitch her voice to carry; the music was _loud._ He leaned forward a little, so she didn't have to strain to hear him.

"I said, 'If you're twenty-one, then _I'm _Patrick Swayze'."

She hadn't been expecting any trouble once she was safely inside, but this shouldn't be anything she couldn't handle.

"I'm _not_ twenty-one...." she admitted to him, playing it ultra cute and a tiny bit shy as she toyed with her hair and glanced down at the bar in faux-embarrassment. "...I turned twenty-two in August." A glance up at him then, with a warm, velvety chuckle that invited him to laugh along, and accept her story. "Everyone _always_ thinks I look younger than I am. Not something a lady should ever complain about, I suppose." She made a conscious effort to pour on the mystical reinforcement as she spoke. Even without a kiss, that should make it all but impossible for him to actually refute her story. And the longer they talked, the more he would find himself captivated by her, and entranced by her, and unable to contradict her in any way.

After all, it was really just a Goddess-powered version of what nature had hardwired into his DNA already: be nice to the pretty girl, do things to make the pretty girl happy (and, eventually, 'do absolutely whatever it takes to have sex with the pretty girl'). Of course, it didn't hurt any that, all magical powers aside, she was far, far beyond being a merely 'pretty' girl.

_In fact, I'm so far past pretty, you couldn't get here from there with a map and a compass,_ she thought, with what she considered to be quite justifiable conceit.

The bartender was staring at her, eyes wide, which should mean that he was at least halfway to being both smitten by her (magically-boosted) charm and gobsmacked by her (Goddess-Awesome!) hotness. Just to make sure he was at least far enough gone to not have her thrown out for being underage, she unleashed a dazzling smile designed to him squarely in a certain male appendage. Coincidentally, the act of reaching for her purse required she lean forward slightly, which treated him to a fantastic view of her gravity-defying breasts.

"Here," she murmured, as quietly as she could manage and still be heard over the sound system. "If you think you _really_ need to see my ID, if you really don't _trust_ me, then I have it right here...."

He laughed out loud, a genuinely amused sound, and waved his hand at her purse in a throwaway gesture.

"I'll _bet_ you've got it right there. Nah, forget about it, my boss isn't here right now, and if that Neanderthal at the door let you through, it's not _my_ fault you're in here." He winked at her, grinned at her dumbfounded expression, and then indicated the array of bottles behind him. "So, what would you like?"

Harmony blinked, more than a little confused, and even though her mind was now stronger, faster, better, etcetera, she was still momentarily stupefied.

_Whu--Wha--Huh?!_

She knew her goddess-power was working; she'd felt it with the door guy, she'd felt it with the girl at the counter, and she felt it now. And on top of that, nobody should be able to just brush her off this way anyway; she was just _that_ hot. This one, though, a normal-looking, thirtyish, good-looking guy, had been hit with everything she could throw at him, and was giving her a conspiratorial smile, like the two of them were sharing a secret joke.

_How--? Why--? He can't_ do--! She shook her head, making the miles and miles of golden hair fly. _Okay, what_ is _this?! All of that, and he doesn't even blink? Come on, *I* would have been smitten if I'd been on the receiving end of that much mystically-powered cuteness! I mean, he's not throwing me out or anything, which is good, but... why isn't he smitten?!_

"Hello?" he prompted when she didn't answer him immediately. "Earth to tall, sexy, extremely _young_ blonde girl? This is the bar, we serve drinks here. Tell me _which_ drink you'd like, and I'll make it for you." He propped his elbows on the bar and looked at her from close range, a gently amused look on his face. "It's what I live for."

As he spoke she'd been examining him with her mystical senses, trying to see if he was carrying some protective charm that was helping him act this casually, when he was face to face with what had to be the most mind-bogglingly beautiful woman he'd ever seen. There was nothing out of the ordinary to be seen in the magical spectrum, however, and she let her eyes fall back into their normal mode of seeing.

"Uh, sorry. A drink? Um... do you know how to make a Pink Bunny?"

He frowned, and eyed her like he was waiting for the punch line of a joke.

"I thought you wanted a drink, not a marshmallow peep."

Harmony gave him a little scowl, still unsettled from her less than successful attempt to charm him.

"It _is_ a drink. It's the only kind I like, actually, but if you don't know how to make it...."

Her pout was half-intentional, the way her lower lip quivered was not. Having this baffling turn of events occur at the start of her so-called 'fun' evening was bad enough; if she couldn't even have a _drink--_

"Whoa there, Princess," he said hastily, hands raised. "Don't cry, it's all good. I'm not standing back here just because my dazzling good looks match the decor; I _do_ know my way around an AA meeting... er, I mean, around a bar." He watched her carefully, and when she couldn't help but smile, albeit tremulously, he grinned back at her. "There you go. Now, if you walk me through how you make this 'pink bunny' of yours, I'll have one for you before the DT's can even _think_ about kicking in."

That took her back to a scowl, although this time there was only exasperation behind it, not incipient tears.

"I am _not_ an alcoholic!"

He nodded sagely.

"Of course you're not, pretty girl... and you're not underage, either," a broad wink accompanied that one. "You know, compulsive lying is a disease too, and most people who suffer from it eventually seek treatment; I've got the number of a good shrink, if you want."

Harmony started to deny being a liar, and then thought better of it. She _had_ been lying almost constantly since Ethan's spell had hit her; it just seemed to come naturally, now. Besides, lying to people, seducing them, and manipulating them into doing what she wanted pretty much described what her goddess-self was all about. And really, wasn't that better than being a monster, or demon, or even a Slayer, whose only power was being able to kill things efficiently?

"Okay then, here's how you make my drink." There, by refusing to play his little game any more, she could gain at least some control over this situation. "Start with a Strawberry Daiquiri."

"No problem so far," he replied, deftly gathering the ingredients.

She watched, then waved a hand to get his attention when he picked up a glass.

"You'll need a bigger one than that."

He cocked an eyebrow, switched to a large tumbler instead of the little cocktail glass, and then got back to it.

"Not an alcoholic, she says," he muttered, loudly enough for her to hear it clearly.

She did her best to ignore him, more concerned about what was happening in the rest of the club. The techno-song ended, fading into something vaguely hip-hop. She could see that the dee-jay was a blonde woman in a tight black outfit; she couldn't make out more than that since the sound booth was on the far side of the club. The dancers out on the floor looked to be enjoying themselves, though she noticed that nearly all of the men out there happened to be facing in her direction as they danced. The people sitting at the tables and in the booths also seemed to be spending a lot of time looking in her direction. Especially interesting was the way they would look away when she met their eyes, but when she turned her head they would immediately start sneaking looks at her again.

All of that was, well, flattering and all, and yet she couldn't help noticing something else which sort of cancelled out the rest of it.

_I've been sitting here for a couple of minutes now, and nobody is coming over to talk to me. Nobody's even coming over to sit down next to me._

She ran a hand nervously through her hair, and as part of the same motion turned her head just far enough for her to check the rest of the room out of the corner of her eye. No, she wasn't imagining it. Everyone, even those engaged in conversation with people at their tables or standing with them, were at least glancing over at her frequently. Quite a few were more or less staring at her, with varying degrees of lust visible in their expressions. And yet, she was still sitting all by herself.

Not sure what to think of all this, she checked on the bartender's progress. He seemed to be most of the way there, although what he was working on wasn't quite what she usually got when she ordered her drink.

"Um, usually there's strawberry schnapps involved? And also a blender?"

He didn't look up from what he was doing, which was plopping six actual strawberries into the bottom of a shaker, squishing them up, and then adding a carefully measured amount of white rum.

"Please," he told her, sounding mildly offended. "I'm making a daiquiri here, not a slushy." Adding a tiny shot of the clear sugar syrup that gave the drink a touch of sweetness, he closed the silvery metal mixer, swept it up with a flourish, and began shaking it in time to the song that was playing. While he was doing that, a couple of women made their way over from a table, to stand at the bar a short ways down from where Harmony sat. They obviously wanted to place their orders, but the man ignored them, holding her eyes and giving her that same conspiratorial grin as before as he mixed her drink. The women both looked impatiently at him, then turned their heads in unison to give her narrow, unfriendly, appraising glares.

_I'd almost think they were jealous, only it isn't like I'm stealing all the men in here for myself or anything._ Her hands were on her thigh, in the zone where her high boots and short skirt left her skin bare. The touch of that warm, perfect smoothness should have been reassuring. It would have been, if she'd had any idea what was going on. Turning her head the other way, she saw more guys looking at her, a few more unfriendly looks from women scattered through the crowd, and still no one approached her.

_What, did my face fall off when I wasn't looking? Have I turned back into poor, semi-pretty, stupid little Harmony without realizing it?_

A hasty grab at her purse accompanied that thought, and she quickly located and opened her mirrored compact, anxiously checking her appearance.

_Whew! Nope, nobody here except us goddesses, thank god--um, well, actually I guess it's 'thank Me'._ She frowned at the flawless face in the mirror, and tried to figure out what was wrong. _Even if I came in here as plain old Harmony, I'd think someone would have sat down and said 'hi' by now. And at school today, when I was in Harmony-plus mode, I was really popular, and everybody was going on about how pretty I was. Going by that, then looking like this I should have the whole place eating out of my hand._ She stared into the little mirror, and let out a frustrated sigh. _It can't be the way I look that's the problem. This is everything; full-on Amora, without anything hidden or held back, and I don't think it's physically_ possible _to be much more beautiful than this. So...._

"There's nothing wrong with you, Princess," the bartender told her in a conversational tone, while pouring the pink liquid into her glass through a strainer, so as to remove the strawberry pulp.

"No, there's got to be something," she replied absently, reaching for the little brush she used to apply powder finish. "Maybe I'm a teeny bit shiny? It's kind of warm in here. Or maybe I need more lip gloss...."

He reached out and intercepted her hand, stopping it short of another reach into her purse.

"It isn't you," he told her firmly, before removing his hand. "You look perfect, you look hot, you look better than any other woman here. Actually, it's probably not an exaggeration to say you look better than any woman anyone in here has ever seen in their entire lives. _That's_ the problem." He sat her glass in front of her, garnished the rim with a pinch of ultra fine sugar, and then eyed her expectantly. "There; your strawberry daiquiri. Now tell me, how do we get from this to a Pink Bunny?" Harmony stared at him, her compact forgotten, and considered what he'd said.

_My looks really are the problem? But he just told me that I'm hotter than anyone here! How can that be a problem?_

"Here's all you do," she said distractedly, while most of her attention was still focused inward. Reaching over to his side of the bar, she picked up the bottle of sweetening syrup. It was just water, basically, with as much sugar dissolved in it as would go and still leave it liquid. Upending it over her drink, she gave it a firm squeeze. Because she'd had him use an oversized glass, the pink concoction didn't even reach the halfway point. That changed when she added more syrup, and then more syrup, and finally more syrup, until the contents had nearly reached the top of the glass. Setting the bottle aside, she picked up a straw, used it to swirl the mixture around until it was a faint, uniform shade of pink, and then put it to her lips and took a tiny sip.

"There; that's a Pink Bunny." She touched the tip of her tongue to her teeth as the contemplated the taste. "Not bad. I'd still rather have the strawberry schnapps than rum, though."

He looked at her glass, then at the now half-empty syrup bottle in front of him, and finally up at her.

"That... would be fairly revolting," he told her. "If not for the fact that you look unbearably cute drinking it." A flash of his now familiar grin failed to cheer her, and she took another, longer sip of her drink.

"Oh, I'm cute all right," a pointed look at the empty stools on either side of her own, and she drank some more. "I'm so cute that nobody is coming within twenty feet of me." The man nodded in sage agreement.

"Exactly right."

Harmony pouted prettily, sipped her Bunny down past the halfway point, and then gave him a petulant glare.

"You said that before, sort of. What exactly are you talking about?"

He gave her a very serious look, thought it over for a moment, and then--

"--Excuse me! Hello, _excuse_ me!?" One of the women down the bar was waving a hand imperiously at the bartender, and her companion had Harmony fixed with an unwavering, hateful stare.

"Can we _please_ order our drinks now?" her friend demanded. The man behind the bar just nodded, and then gestured one of the waitresses over.

"Sure, ladies," he said agreeably. "Mandy here will make them for you; I'm dealing with a bit of a crisis, here." The attractive, dark-haired waitress slipped behind the bar, smiled brightly at the women, and the man turned back to Harmony.

"Sorry 'bout that, Princess. Now, where were we?"

She tugged nervously at her hair, glanced around at all the people having a good time, and then gave him a sulky look.

"You were saying that what's wrong with me is that there's nothing wrong with me... or something like that."

He winced at her tone, though he nodded in response to her words.

"Close. The problem here, I think, is that you're seriously underestimating the--"

"Um, Gyan?" The waitress-slash-bartender girl, Mandy, was looking a little harried as she looked at the man with whom Harmony had been speaking. "They want something called an Oatmeal Cookie shot? Only I don't think we _have_ any oatmeal back here." She went back to searching among the dozens of bottles, and then peered underneath the bar itself, where there was storage space for various mixing supplies. Another waitress arrived at the bar in time to hear that, and with an exasperated look at her coworker set down her tray.

"An Oatmeal Cookie shot does _not_ have oatmeal in it!"

Mandy, frowning in confusion, kept searching.

"Sure it does... doesn't it? It would have to...."

The other young woman shook her head forcefully.

"No, it doesn't. All you need is some Bailey's Irish Creame, butterscotch schnapps, and Jagermeister."

The head bartender--Gyan--gave a little sigh that only Harmony was close enough to hear, then smiled apologetically at her.

"I'll be right back." He walked down to where the others were clustered, and raised his hands in a calming gesture. "Okay, kids, just chill. Mandy, actual oatmeal is _not,_ in fact, required for an Oatmeal Cookie shot." He turned to look at the other waitress. "And Jess, jagermeister isn't anywhere in the mix either. It's Goldschlager." Her face fell slightly, and she mumbled an apology to the other woman. Gyan got to work mixing the drinks, and Harmony tried to tune out the loud, obnoxious comments that both of the female customers made over the next minute or so, about all three employees of the club.

_Wow, what utter bitches_ they _are,_ she thought to herself. _Maybe I should hit them with a little curse, like I gave Aspen?_ A dejected glance left and right brought her mood even lower, and she tugged at her hair again. _No, that's not a good idea. Doing magic requires concentration and confidence... and I don't think I have much of either right now._

She picked up her drink, noting even as she drained the last of it that her hand was placed gracefully on the glass, her first and last fingers delicately extended in an unconscious display of ladylike poise.

_Hmph. So what if I'm beautiful and graceful and poised, if it doesn't always_ work? _My looks got me in here, sure, but then this bartender treats me like I'm his little niece or something, and absolutely no one else seems interested in getting anywhere near me. What's going on? Why isn't everybody hitting on me? Why isn't_ anybody _hitting on me? The magic, the spells, yeah, that'll take a while for me to figure out, I get that. Being the hottest girl, though, shouldn't that be a no-brainer? How am I managing to mess that up, when all I have to do is sit here and look good?_

Her newfound confidence, it seemed, was more fragile than she'd thought, because it was all to easy to slide back into her old mindset of feeling inferior to everyone around her.

"...And I'm back." She looked up to see Gyan back in front of her, retrieving her empty glass and setting it aside. "Want another one?"

"Yes, please," she told him quietly. "And could you put more rum in it this time?"

"Coming right up." His hands moved with a wonderful economy of motion as he prepared another Bunny, even though his eyes kept returning to her as he worked.

"So, sad girl, let me get back to what I was saying, before those tears spill over and turn that pretty face all smeared and blotchy."

Harmony stared at the surface of the bar, refusing to meet his gaze.

"I'm not 'pretty'," she complained, though it was mostly her Amora memories and behavior patterns that prompted the response. "Calling _Me_ 'pretty' is an insult."

He paused for an instant, and then continued with what he was doing, though his tone was wry.

"Fair enough, O supremely beautiful Princess, but that was the point of what I was trying to tell you before. You'd have more company right now if you _were_ just 'pretty', and not drop-dead gorgeous."

Harmony frowned down at the glossy wooden bar, realized she was trying to see her reflection there, and looked up at him.

"That's... counterintuitive. Doesn't being more beautiful mean people like me more, want me more...?" Her words ended on a faintly uncertain note, and he held up one hand and waggled it back and forth.

"Sort of yes, and sort of no. Like I started to say earlier, you're underestimating the amount of courage it takes for your typical male to approach a woman. _Especially_ a stunningly attractive woman. Now, if you were just slightly cute, then they could casually stroll over, chat you up, and then move on if you weren't interested; no big deal. However, with you looking like you do, every single guy in the place will be watching whoever tries to hook up with you. And if you shoot him down, then _everybody_ will know it, and everybody will be laughing at the poor schmuck for the rest of the night. Maybe longer."

Harmony felt her eyes widen.

"Really?"

"Really. And not only that, there's also the women to consider. There might be a few here who are confident enough to not feel _severely_ threatened by you... but I wouldn't count on it. Most of them hated you the second you walked in the door. _All_ of them are looking at you, and trying to find some flaw they can use to make themselves feel better the next time they look in a mirror. And _none_ of them are going to speak to any man who comes near you tonight, because that'll make them seem like a second choice--and all of them already feel too old, or too plain, too flat, or too fat, compared to you." He sat a fresh Pink Bunny in front of her, and poked a straw down into the syrupy mixture. "So no, it isn't that you're not pretty enough--excuse me, not _gorgeous_ enough; believe me, you've cornered the market on gorgeous. It's just that you're intimidating the hell out of anyone here who would want to walk over and talk to you. Which is almost every guy in the place... and probably more than a few of the women, too."

Intrigued by his argument, and feeling slightly cheered despite herself, Harmony put the straw to her lips and sipped more of the pink, sugary concoction. This time around the alcohol was slightly noticeable, even through the overpowering sweetness.

_Can he be right? Is the reason I'm being treated like outcast-girl that I'm_ too _beautiful? How's that for irony?_

It seemed ridiculous, and yet she did recall reading something similar in her fashion magazines, when they were interviewing certain top models and actresses.

_I just never believed it, when they said that guys were afraid to come up and talk to them. It sounded like something they made up so that people wouldn't hate them as much, for having completely perfect lives on top of having those completely perfect faces and bodies. Now, though... maybe they were telling the truth after all._

She had gone through her second drink while lost in her musings, and Gyan the bartender had turned away to pour a series of whiskey shots that he then deposited on Jess's tray. When he saw her looking at him, he gave her a shake of his head, and a rueful smile.

"I should probably mention that orders for the hard stuff; whiskey, tequila, and jagermeister, have spiked noticeably since you showed up. So if you really want company, all you have to do is wait around until everyone's liquid courage kicks in, and then you'll be set. Of course, it's going to be semi-coherent, _really_ drunk company by that point...."

Harmony nodded to show she'd heard him, but something else was bothering her just then.

"Assuming you're right, about all this--"

"It's always a good bet, to assume I'm right about everything," he put in, with only a tiny little smile lurking around the edges of an otherwise serious face.

"--Then what I'm wondering is... why aren't _you_ intimidated like everyone else?" His eyebrows rose, and he tried to look oh-so-very surprised and innocent, only she wasn't buying it. "They're only looking, from way over there. _You're_ right here in front of me, close enough to touch me, or kiss me--" She leaned forward a little, with her head tilted up slightly, obviously offering him the chance to try a kiss... and he just nodded, and didn't move, and she pulled back, pouting in annoyance. "See? It's like you don't even see me as a woman or something, and it's freaking me out!" He leaned back, carefully, against the well-stocked shelves behind the bar, and crossed his arms as he regarded her.

"All right, that just _proves_ that you are very, very young, young lady. Because it's obvious that you're bright, on top of everything else you have going for you, but you are most definitely _not_ experienced in the ways of the world. One might even go so far as to say that you are painfully naive."

She nibbled at her lower lip as she stared at him, and pushed her empty glass across the bar, silently prompting him for another one.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked aloud, and he grinned at her in a curiously gentle sort of way.

"It means that while I can certainly see that you are a woman, and a very beautiful one, the fact remains that I do not swing that way."

Her eyes widened as realization finally arrived, and she stared at him in shock.

"You mean you're...?"

"Gay," he supplied helpfully.

_Oh. Oh, well, poop._ She felt a little like the old Harmony for a moment, since even someone suffering from mild retardation should have connected the dots a little sooner. In her defense, however, he didn't _act_ especially gay, with an out there manner of speaking and extravagant gestures. Of course, that sort of stereotype might not be common outside of the television shows she watched.

_And then there's the thing where it shouldn't matter,_ she realized, surveying Amora's memories to double check herself. _Yeah, see? If I can make even theoretically 'straight' girls like Fawn feel attracted to me, then he shouldn't be able to resist me either._

"That shouldn't matter," she said aloud. "Not when we're talking about _me_." Gyan's eyebrows were already as high as they could go; when she hit him with _that_ he seemed caught halfway between incredulousness and laughter.

"_What?_ Are you saying that absolutely everyone you meet, regardless of their sexual orientation, has no choice but to fall to their knees and grovel before you just because of that face, that hair, and that body?"

Harmony squirmed a little in embarrassment.

"Ummm... yes?" She consulted Amora's memories, then gave an uncertain nod. "That's how it's supposed to work in theory, anyway."

Because, while there had been a few men over the millennia who had been immune to the Goddess' wiles, the number was vanishingly small. Sexual preference was a spectrum, after all, not a simple yes or no affair. Even someone who wasn't into women in general would still have _some_ attraction to them, however slight. Given that much to work with, her earlier attempt at enchanting him should have worked.

"Are you really gay?" she asked him, and then felt herself flush slightly in embarrassment. "I mean, okay, I believe that you're gay... but are you a _lot_ gay? Because otherwise...."

He looked a little bemused now; it probably wasn't the sort of conversation he usually had with a customer.

"I think it's safe to say that I am very, very gay."

Almost without meaning to, Harmony's fingers went to her hair, then her cheek, then her breasts; brief, feather-light touches that only reinforced her disbelief.

"You would have to be really, really, _really_ gay, to not be into me, I think," she told him. "I mean, like, super gay. To the point where gayness is your mutant power or something."

She was on the verge of just babbling, now, and no in a very polite way, either. Yet somehow, even though she totally would have understood if he did, the man still didn't get mad at her. Actually, he still looked like he was struggling not to dissolve into fits of laughter.

"Wow. Believe me, working here means I meet a lot of people with high opinions of themselves. And _none_ of them has ever come close to matching _you_." He didn't say it in a mean way; it almost sounded like a compliment. So she took it as one, even going so far as to deliberately misinterpret him a bit.

"That's because no one else has this much reason to feel superior," she said, doing her best to get past the disappointment and put a playful face on things. "When you're as amazing as I am, humility ends up seeming a little disingenuous, don't you think?" She gave him a small, hesitant smile as she said it, and to her relief he finally did laugh in delight.

"Very true," he admitted, taking her empty glass and starting the assembly of another Pink Bunny for her. "It would be wrong--positively deceitful, in fact--for you to pretend you were a mere mortal like the rest of us."

"You have no idea," she murmured, noticing that he seemed oblivious to the other customers down the bar who were waiting impatiently. The two waitresses were spending more time covering for him, making drinks, than they were out of the floor delivering them.

_Hm. Maybe he's not quite as immune as he'd like to think,_ she mused, while gazing at him through her lashes, and nibbling on one long nail in a deliberately fetching manner.

"Are you _sure_ you don't want to kiss me?" she asked, half-teasingly. "Not even a little bit?" He glanced up from what he was doing, and she stopped nibbling, and instead ran the tip of her nail back and forth across her lower lip, the tiny movement drawing his eyes like a magnet. He grinned again, and shook his head with a sigh.

"Sorry, still liking the boys."

"There aren't any boys here, talking to you," she pointed out. "And I am. Plus, I'm much prettier than any boy you'll ever meet; and that's not even counting the fact that I'm endlessly fascinating, too."

His hands finished up her drink, moving deftly even though he was staring at her with genuine curiosity mixed in with the amusement.

"Tell me, Miss green and gold Princess; is it even possible for you to accept the idea of someone who can resist you?"

She leaned forward, just a little, so that her lips were in range of a kiss, if he decided to surrender to her after all, and whispered:

"I think... no."

He gave her that easy grin of his, ignored the temptation of her ruby lips, and opened a fresh bottle of the sugar syrup that constituted half of each drink he'd made for her.

"In that case, let me say that, while you are stunningly beautiful, and come closer than any other female ever has to changing this fellow's mind about certain matters--" he took a moment to sweep a little bow in her direction. "--The fact remains that I am, regretfully, an _extremely_ gay individual, and therefore I will not fall for you... at least not in any sort of physical way."

Harmony smiled faintly. Despite his fresh denial, she found herself feeling a little better about things.

_Maybe that's true, mister bartender man, and maybe it's not. I think, given time, I_ could _have you down on your knees, begging for the privilege of touching me... although you are being very nice when you don't have to be. So I won't push it, much. Knowing that I could change your mind if I wanted to is enough. For now._

She glanced around, took in the wider situation, and found it basically unchanged. Everyone was still checking her out; no one was willing to take the plunge and come hit on her. At this rate, her night of fun would end up being both unfun, and positively lonely--aside from some interesting conversation with a man who was determined to _not_ have sex with her.

"So... you said I shouldn't wait for someone to approach me?"

He nodded.

"If you do, it'll be a while. In a place like New York or London, it wouldn't be a problem. Big cities are lousy with players who are absolutely convinced that they're god's gift to the world." He paused, gave her a significant glance, and laughed when she stuck out her tongue at him. "But here? In Sunnydale?" He made a dismissive gesture. "These people aren't nearly as sophisticated as they'd like to think. Unless they're completely blitzed, no one is going to take a chance on being the first one you shoot down in flames."

Harmony nodded in understanding.

"I need to get them past this 'total awe' stage they're in, and get them to the point where everyone can start fighting over who gets to be with the gorgeous new girl in town." She was being completely serious, so it took her by surprise when he laughed, long and loud. "What?"

He only shook his head helplessly.

"No, you're right," he managed, though he seemed to be having trouble keeping a straight face, and his voice sounded strained. "That's it exactly." He took a deep breath, and was able to go in a more or less normal tone. "Go and interact with someone; anyone. Talk to them, dance with them... even picking a fight with someone and getting into an argument would probably work. Let them see you're real, and not some flawless, unapproachable image on a magazine cover. Once you do that, then at least some of them will take the plunge and come up to you." With all the interruptions, it had taken him a long while to finish up her third Bunny. Now, though, he slid her drink across the bar, then looked up at her from beneath lowered brows. "Are you sure you don't want to slow down on these, Princess? There _is_ alcohol in there, even if the taste isn't making it past the twenty tablespoons of sugar."

"Don't worry, I have a high tolerance," she told him. "Kind of... superhuman, actually." Then: "Why do you keep calling me 'Princess'? Are you making fun of me? Because someone named 'Gyan' really shouldn't be throwing stones."

He shook his head, hands raised to ward off her mock-glare.

"Gyan means 'knowledge' in Hindi; my parents were hopeless flower children, back in the sixties. And no, I'm not making fun of you. What do you think of when someone says 'Princess'?"

Harmony cleared her throat, a little self-consciously.

"Um, 'spoiled brat'?"

That got her another laugh.

"You really are completely adorable, aren't you?" This time it was her turn to use the arched eyebrow, and he quickly corrected himself. "Forgive me, I meant to say 'utterly charming, sophisticated, and irresistible', not adorable. But as for Princess, I think most of us associate it with someone who is elegant, feminine, and lovely... and you are most certainly all of those things."

So far as she could tell he was absolutely sincere, and she looked away, looked back at him, and found herself smiling a pleased little smile.

_Is he saying that because he_ is _a little smitten with me after all? Or because he really means it? I guess it doesn't much matter either way; it's still nice to hear._

"Thanks," she said, softly.

"You're very welcome." When she reached for her drink, he blocked her by resting his hand atop the glass. "Now, why don't you go out there right now, and dance some sexy-girl dance, and we'll count how many seconds it takes for you to attract a crowd of adoring fans?"

When he put it that way, it seemed like the obvious thing to do, so that's what Harmony did.

* * * * *


End file.
